April 1, 2013

i stole a book from the library | National Poetry Month

i stole this scratched
and scarred book
from your shelf
because it stood alone
among many
reminding me
of me.

fully bound, we endure,
yet weakened threads let loose
our textured coverings.
faded tattooed spine
cracks when touched
like father’s brown back.

i stole this bounty of words
from the one
who slipped inside
my soul
cramming into his pockets
by greedy fistful
the treasure of
my thoughts,
my dreams,
my pains.

for how else did they
find their way
onto these worn pages
if not by the actions of a thief?

yet his words,
mine but not,
take me to
unvisited familiar places,
remind me of people I've yet to greet,
comfort me and educate me
like none have before.
how can this be?

yes, i rescued this scratched
and scarred book
from your shelf
because it stood alone
among many
reminding me
of me.

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