the book thief


he used to say,
“anyone that gives a lent book
back to their owner must be insane,”
and i imagine him at a desk
soaking in book after book next to
a fire-lit lamp.

i smile at the image.

but then i start to think of the lender.

would he have made his books feel wanted?
would he have talked to them?
would he have given them the warm touch of his hands
which they so craved?
or would he have left them on a shelf,
perhaps a drawer
withering and cold?

and i begin to wonder whether
sometimes it is better
to be the robber
than the robbed.

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