On the passing of a bookshop

Sadly, a bookshop closed in my neighborhood - this time a branch of a big retail chain. Still, there will be one less spot to browse, to brood, to sip a beverage, to daydream. It is true, however, that I cannot remember ever buying anything there. At the closing sale, I bulked up on mystery novels - soap operas of the novel genre. Last weekend I was at Kramerbooks at Dupont Circle. No more than five minutes in the shop and I had in hand a collection of Hafiz poems. I've seen his poetry inscribed on painting, in books, on drawings. I heard you can visit his home in Iran. I've read little of Hafiz, my own book of Persian poetry is very slender indeed. I may, I think, go back to Kramers.