Monday, April 18, 2011


Printed pages,
Words of yore,
Rusting tin men,
Worn old blanket,
Faded bookmark,
My haven.

Yellowing pages,
Scripted ink,
Black castels,
Striped orange cat,
A folded corner,
My haven.

I dive headfirst
into the ever-changing world
Of the harmonious order
Of other-wise meaningless words
On thin, brittle pages,
My haven.

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