wherever a man turns he can find someone who needs him

June 6: frog-march

My reluctance to "play the game" has made the last few months seem more like a frog-march than a cooperative effort.

 

She knew where it was,
that thing you were looking for,
and if it wasn’t there,
          she could tell you just how long
          you’d have to wait for it
          to be yours, not quite
long enough to finish perhaps
or as long as you could hope for,
but in either case
          you would hear from her
          when she wanted it back
          as soon as (or even sooner)
than possible. If you became
over time familiar
with her ways and obeyed
          the rules and even understood
          why they were hers, who knew
          when time was up,
who could keep quiet
or at least hold his speaking voice
down, who could go without
          food or drink, who could show
          the proper attitudes
          of polite attention
or even of being lost
in thought, she would give you
for a while whatever
          you might desire within
          reason, and if it turned out
          to be what you really hadn’t
been looking for at all,
she would take it back
without the least sign
          of resentment (perhaps a sigh)
          within the natural bounds
          of the love of propriety,
she would give you almost anything
else you might still have
in mind, this good librarian.

[David Wagoner, 'Long Overdue Praise for Her', from After the Point of No Return--for The Cat and Fluffy K.; the title quotation is by Albert Schweitzer]