..
It’s tomorrow,
and we can already smell the pages
and the ages and ages of
yesterday’s stories
in between:
For Mary, Merry Christmas 1956
Lisle, with all my love, George
See page 37. – Farley
Happy Birthday, Darling. 1979
We’ll wonder where those past
readers are now as we open
their spines again and again,
the scent of tree skins in
-toxicating us, leading
our own heartbeats
to the worlds within.
We’ll begin with a smile
and a spark in our eyes,
and we’ll follow their
fingerprints to the end.
..
In November, we poem.
love this – not just the printed story in those books
As a fellow bookstore lover, this made me smile.
“We’ll wonder where those past
readers are now as we open
their spines again and again,
the scent of tree skins in
-toxicating us”