We Read

by Kevin Rabas

At the Olpe Chicken House behind glass there’s a copy
of Ken Ohm’s new book, Ducks Across the Moon.
An old woman and her husband cane their way
to the counter, pay with cash, the bills
old and crumbled and green, and ask about the book.
The kid behind the counter, who looks like the town
quarterback, says, “I didn’t write it,” annoyed.
“Heck, I don’t know.” And the old couple walks on,
goes home, along the way mentioning books they do
know, and love, and read, and slump in peace, sleep
on their La-Z-Boys, the tv snow, the books
held in their laps, the reading lamps still on.