A Little Free Library Surprise

Each time I visit a Little Free Library, I drop off books, but I seldom take anything home. It’s not that I’m not interested. I am. I’m just hunting for poetry and art, and I rarely find either.

I visited the Little Free Library at Clark Park in Buena Park today. I was there to go birding, but as usual, I brought a couple of books to donate. I dropped off two of my wife’s murder mysteries, then looked through the shelves.

I was surprised to find a book already in my library: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson. It instantly transported me back to my first reading in the 1980s. I was tempted to take it home, but thought better of it when I noticed a slim volume of poetry sitting right beside it.

Good Grief by Brianna Pastor is a 76-page collection of poems exploring depression, mental health, and trauma. The book even includes a trigger warning explaining why some readers may find the material difficult. That intrigued me. I slipped it into my pocket and headed off to look for birds.

I read the first poem while sitting in my car. I noticed two torn blue bookmarks tucked into pages 5 and 11, left there by a previous reader. Naturally, I turned to those poems next. Later, while enjoying some quiet time alone, I finished the entire collection in a single sitting. Before closing the book, I added my own bookmark, this one pink, on page 8.

I have a habit of bookmarking poems that resonate with me before passing the book along. I also leave a short note and my name. This time, my contribution was simply “!!” followed by “Joe,” as shown below. It’s my way of telling the next reader that someone else was here and found something worth remembering.

I’m torn.

I love this little book. I collect poetry, and although most of my library is currently in storage, I’d like to add this one to the collection.

But the right thing to do is pass it on.

Instead, I’ll buy my own copy and return this one to a Little Free Library. It seems like the best way to support the author while letting someone else discover it, just as I did.