There’s a library—
near where I live, down a way,
its facade is of stone and concrete.
No more when I peer
through its windows of glass
(sad to say)
do towers of books my eyes greet;
a costly rehab of its inside I fear
has sacrificed much that was charming:
fewer books for a start,
blank walls—gone the art!
The newfangled space is alarming.
—Susan Aster Wallman
