Satiny old leather,
crumbling at the edge,
a little gilt,
almost sensuous.
Yellowed pages, foxed with
brown spots, darkened by
age, stained by unknown fingers in perusal.
A ragged tear
on the last blank page.
A handcolored frontis, colored by
what hand? Colors seeping
over the lines, as though the
hand were tired.
A forgotten book, laid aside
like an old lover.
by Cher Bibler
