Books and Yellow

I am the library you wore your
yellow sweater to today.
You ran your fingers
along my shelves.
Each story you touched felt your soul humming with words.

Raindrops raced each other
down my windows that were framing the gray sky outside.
You anticipated the right one to win the race.

An array of books urged you to pick them up,
but I glimpsed you telling them “maybe next time.”

I noticed you checking out a single item this afternoon:
The History of This Library.
I beamed.
You fancy reading about me today,
And anything you wish to read about must be beautiful.