I like the sound
of my new heavy hiking boots
on these wooden floorboards
in this second-hand bookstore.
I don’t hike often. okay, never.
but I got these shoes for six pounds
at a charity shop on Nicholson
and I now I clip-clop around
this book shop like I might
climb mountains, on occasion.
It’s quiet and warm
and smells like ink and paper
and probably glue. or mould?
It smells like dust, too. which I’m told is just dead skin.
I don’t read as often as I should.
but I do more than I hike, so I guess that’s something.
Yet here I don’t feel like an imposter,
like I did an hour earlier.