5000 years ago or maybe last year, she wrote a book that some people borrow from the library in Castlebar
The book is returned with an unspoken history that deepens with each lend
A new tea stain
An old tear stain
Both made worse by the reader's vigorous drying attempts
A mysterious numerical sum scribbled on the margin
A receipt for Main Street parking
And the inevitable underlined verses, an authority imposed by the previous reader
When I borrowed the book
And opened it like a creaking door
I found a pressed flower, a note and a photograph
The photograph fell to the floor
The pressed flower disintegrated leaving a morbid shadow
And the note stuck to page 48
Everything was faded
Page 48 started with the words "It's strange how a place of so many words is so silent"
The note said: "Forgive me for not having been able to find the words"
Page 48 again (underlined twice) "We are breathing in the same page"
She was 80 years old when the photograph was taken
Dreaming books
Spilling tea
Losing parking tickets
Finding words
Isabela Basombrío Hoban is an award-winning bilingual poet. Originally from Peru, she lives in Ireland. Her recent books are "Nothing belongs to everyone", "Rain Love Death Poets" and “Another type of abbreviation”. Isabela's poetry has been translated into several languages including Irish, Portuguese, Polish, and Bengali.