Are you blank? Are you a blank?
Who wrote on you?
Who will?
Do you have a pen?
Or a permanent marker?
Does your page become see-through
when it takes in water?
Who is your author?
Are you an author?
Who is the audience
lurking in the dark?
Where is the beginning, middle, and ending
of the play of your life
unwritten in the stars?
Do you long for bookmarks?
Or do you miss erasers?
Do you wish sadly
for fire on your margins?
Who is the holder of your page,
On your cover
who glares?
Do you stand among us
Forgotten, dusty lore?
Crinkling of the fragile pages
I hear in the dusk hours.
By my candle flickering
I hold you, and the yellow
of your pages touches mine.
I will not forget you
As long as alive
is human mind
Will live the page
Of your core
Will live the saga
Of our lore.