In the La Trobe Reading Room

[Nature Scribe ventures inside for a change. A poem about being in one of my favourite indoor places in the world.]

In the reading room,
That sacred place of words,

A child calls out in another tongue.

Or perhaps the wordless tongue of everychild.

She, liking the effect, sounds it again

And again, filling the dome.

How could I frown or shush?

For this too is sacred.