Some books, I never get to finish.
I close the covers, gingerly; afraid to wake the words,
And while they’re sleeping, fitfully,
I place it on a shelf.
A dark shelf
In a dusty room,
In a place I used to live.
They may dream their fearful dreams
With no more help from me
And I will start another book,
I’ll be free.
Wendy Anne Darling 4/9/2016