Along a dusty shelf

 

I am a writer of books
in an electronic age
While you flicker your lights
I just turn the page,
The stories I write
still can be told
When there isn’t a light
and the furnace grows cold,

With candle and coffee
there isn’t a doubt,
books will survive
when the power goes out,

Clouds and computers
may be what they teach,
but I’ll keep my books
here within reach.