The men and women walked the aisles
of the book fair.
Their gaze fell upon
ornate leather bindings,
and they moved into the booths
like panthers on the prowl.
They peered through narrow eyes,
squinting as in a bright sun.
Their fingers lovingly moved
over the books,
with a reverence
reserved for their god.
They opened the books,
looking for marks of the first born,
judging their condition
like beauty pageant contestants.
Money was no object,
and rarity was a good thing.
In this contest,
antiquity was the winner,
and some collectors
cared more about depriving others
of a find,
and wanted to keep the books safe
from the destroyers of knowledge.
After their purchases,
they went home to their other books,
put the new ones
in the bookcase,
and never touched them again.
May be an image of book