Missed Librarian

Like a paper princess gliding by, she
reads patches on my jeans.
Her black shoes balance glasses as
she bends to nose through bookish places.
Nearby I’m thrilled by the text of her voice.
And although addressing others,
she only speaks to me.
She puts books into slots
like slipping kisses in my ear.
But then her footsteps fade
into fairy-tale pages.

Wilf Higgins