Welcome back to The Daily Poem. I'm David Kern, and today's Friday, February 12th, 2020.

Now, as Heidi White indicated yesterday, maybe this is the best day for a love poem with Valentine's Day coming up on Sunday.

And I am going to read a love poem of sorts, but I'm not going to read a love poem in this sense that you might think of.

It's not, you know, a Shakespearean sonnet or something.

Instead, this is a love poem written by a friend of mine that is an ode to books.

As you know, I've been, my wife and I have been working on opening a bookstore.

We're two and a half months in.

We're having a grand time.

It's a lot of work, but it's so special to see people who love books come in and sort of

be able to feast at a banquet of books, if you will. And this is a poem that Joshua

Alan Sturgle wrote called the Ancient Modern. Joshua is a friend of mine. He has a book from a few

years ago called As far as I can tell. I've read one or two poems from that book over the years. It's a very

interesting book, and I would suggest you get a copy of that, particularly if you are a person

of a faith who participates in the Christian tradition. This poem is called, as I said,

the ancient modern, and I'll read it once, offer a few thoughts

and then read it one more time, and then be out of here to let you celebrate your Valentine's

day weekend, however you are planning to do so. So this is the ancient modern.

Bright and sweet and oil-drenched feast of books.

Not for the delicate, the food allergic, but for the round-limbed, lusty travelers, the fighters for their souls.

The ones who tear open the basement darkness, who rise to build, to honor and salute the truth contained within

the glass of words, who eat and drink until their conversation weighs against and breaks the

brazen gates of politics. Sleepers wake and taste the vibrant grace of poetry, the salt in song,

...