Page Turner

Within the turn of a page, I’m transported to 1920’s New Orleans.
Soft pastel ribbons that adorn the corn silk curls of the girls passing by catch my eye as I inhale the thick scent of burning cigars.
My feet carry me towards the worn rue named Bourbon Street,and past the sounds of smooth jazz that bubble up from various apartments. 
The sounds blend into a soft melody that immediately gets stuck in my head.
Humming along quietly, I find myself in front of a soda parlor of some sort. Colossal vermilion letters on a decayed piece of wood claim that for just 25 cents, malt pop with peppermint-striped straws is for sale.
Intrigued and slightly dehydrated, I reach out to open the door. 
My hand does not brush the cool metal of a handle, but the rough pressed paper of a worn novel instead. Glancing around, I realize I never left my room.
Books have the power to transport anyone to new and old places and times in a matter of words.
In less than one hundred words, I am able to lose myself in another century and state. 
I have lived over a thousand years and lives, but have left my footprints in the soft wood pulp of each novel I've read.
Though my body confines me to the year 2015, my mind is free to be wherever when I pick up a book.
Is there anything more remarkable than that?
This poem is about: 
Our world


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