Bookcases, empty and bare, Stand purposeless, as if in error. Where once the walls were lined with books Now barren shelves attract no looks   The dark store, a cavernous lair, A shadowy shell of what was there When we could lose ourselves with care In stories from book-laden nooks, Then fly away.   The… Continue reading A Rondel Lamenting the Slow Demise of the Indie Bookstore