That Long Forgotten Book
On that long forgotten book
Time has layered itself as dust
Faintly fragrant of the bygone.
As I lick my fingers to turn the pages
I sense a subtle taste on my tongue.
Of those moments once lived through.
The fading red muslin cloth
Of its enduring hard back bind
Speaks mute of its long years.
Pressed upon the yellowing paper
The black ink typeset print though
Seems to have grown only younger.
The blotted coffee stain on page 72
Conjures the baristaΒ of that evening
You tasted espresso for the first time.
Flipping through, a bookmark falls out
The first & only postcard you wrote to me
It had a little limerick I can't recall now.
There were no notes on the margins except,
On the last blank page, a sketch of my table
In its full disarrayed glory and your signature.
By the sound of the pages rustling
I am suddenly warped back in time
To the courtyard of our old house.
Now that after so very long
I have rediscovered my old friend,
I just donβt wish to say goodbye.
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Comments
it is sometimes worth while to take a trip down memory lane linda
It is indeed!
Shukriya, Linda. You are perhaps the most regular reader of my poems here and have always been encouraging. Very sincerely appreciated. :)
you are very welcome linda
This is a work of grace and beauty.
J ;)
Shukriya so much Jason! :)