The book slammed down upon my hand
Before my fingers cleared its edge
The sharp sting of reality
Interrupting the middle of our chapter
Yet I reached for the book repeatedly
In ensuing months, just couldn't put it down
Longing for an old familiar verse
One to read aloud and cherish
Again the cover of the book was
Crushed into my heart, extinguishing the plot
Scattering the memories like confused
Confetti of what was real, what was fiction
Unfamiliar spine, tattered pages of perseverance
Upon a now dusty, dilapidated shelf
Next to the mirror where I glimpse your face
Reading glasses resting on your nose
You who emphatically, purposefully
Closed the book on my fingers again and again
Ending our chapter to finish your own
Picking up where your bookmark beckoned
As I finally put the book away for the last time
I gently kiss the cover, closing it forever
The way one gently releases a baby bird as it becomes
ONE WITH SKY
(7-21-2004)
©2012 All Rights Reserved
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem