Category: art

This is my first memory:A big room with heavy wooden tables that sat on a creaky       wood floorA line of green shades—bankers’ lights—down the centerHeavy oak chairs that were too low or maybe I was simply       too short              For me to sit in and readSo my first book was always bigIn the foyer up four steps a semi-circle desk presidedTo the left side the card catalogueOn the right newspapers draped over what looked like       a quilt rackMagazines face out from the wallThe welcoming smile of my librarianThe anticipation in my heartAll those books—another world—just waitingAt my fingertips.

My First Memory (of Librarians), Nikki Giovanni

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile
And mouth with myriad subtleties,

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
     We wear the mask.

We smile, but oh great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile,
But let the world dream otherwise,
     We wear the mask!

Paul Laurence Dunbar