A bit behind (Christmas) with Paul Brookes’ December challenge. Here is yesterday’s prompt.

Wild bookshelves

There are bookshelves everywhere now,
at the station, at the grocer’s
and outside the baker’s

sheaves of words read and shared,
shelves of well-thumbed paperbacks
to be thumbed yet again,

waiting to be picked up and taken home,
unlocked, to pour, purring into other hands,
to light a fire inside another head.

Meanwhile they lean against
one another, whispering comfort,
steam from a teapot, a place on the sofa,

keeping the words warm
like a nest of mice.