Midnight Library Card
UNITED STATESPOEM11
Sophie
10/30/20251 min read
My library card worked only after midnight.
At twelve exactly, the books woke and began rearranging themselves. Mysteries hid their final chapters. Dictionaries argued about definitions. Cookbooks released the smell of warm bread.
The librarian handed me a lantern.
“Choose carefully,” she whispered. “Some stories read you back.”