Staringoutthewindow's Blog

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If I were a book

I would be  thick

On the rows of shelves

With seemingly dull cover

But glossy pages. 

The solitary witness

Of my meaning,

Of  my colors,

Of my words,

Would be the numbers

On my pages.

 For a long time

I would sit there

Damp but hopeful

Trusting on the author…

That someday…

Somehow…

I would be found…

Not only by some curious mind

But by my author’s own hands.

 

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May 7, 2010 Posted by | Poetry | | Leave a comment