Thursday, May 8, 2008

A Book Found Me Today,



That is the only way I can describe it.

It went like this. I was in the back of the Strand bookstore, carrying on a conversation with Caitlin and hunched over one of the discount racks. I had just passed a hardcover copy of The Lovely Bones, when I stood up and began to move toward the next shelf.

It happened then.

I glanced down to look at the next book shelf, I looked up at the information desk, and looked down again and the book was sitting next to my hand, which was just resting on the top of a thick anthology.

The book is terribly ugly. Its purple and yellow and stuck in the eighties. The book is Letters to a Young Poet and it found me. I know it the way you know its your father who opens the door in the late afternoon. I know it because in the introduction the writer talks about how his copy of Letters to a Young Poet found him.

The book fit comfortably in the palm of my hand and I read it as Caitlin, Heather, Emily and I rode the trains all afternoon. I know from the words I have read so far that this copy of this book is going to be read a lot. I like the character of the water marks on the bottom of the page and they tell me that this book will travel places and touch people.

I am glad that on May 8, 2008 it found me.

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