“On Reading”

There is a rare pleasure in

reading a good book,

legs stretched out to catch

the last afternoon rays,

languidly on the lawn –

taking a dip in serenity

to form fateful connections

and other worlds

in the minds of strangers,

narrated by you.


It makes me sad

to hear the clock chime,

knowing this afternoon

will never be again,

but I remember reading

that the sun does not set,

it is the earth which

rises into night,

carrier of our soaring feelings

and broken hearts alike.


An orange monarch floats by,

ruler of her airy kingdom,

and my thoughts fly alongside

forgetting reading, writing,

sunsets, satisfaction.


for a moment i am


Then the butterfly is gone and

I stretch to catch the light again,

gazing at my book,

continuing to read our world.