Saturday, October 25, 2014

OctPoWriMo #23: Chapters



I have always loved the ruffled
edge of paper, feather
soft from turning,
curling one chapter
into the next, a thousand
hands before mine discovered
the adventure of paragraph, sentence,
book.  The spine is cracked
where eager hands have
split the world in half,
searching.

We race
toward the
ending we pray
will never
come.


Poet's Note:  The prompt was to do with starting a new chapter.  It coincided with some thinking I was doing and an odd conversation with my father.  Not all of that shows in the poem, I'm sure...but it spawned the poem.  Anyway, here it is.  Yay!

1 comment:

  1. "We race..." and as I read I raced to keep up with the tempo. yes, i too sometimes wish the book would not end.
    well done, again

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