I brought a book on the founding fathers
on this camping trip
last weekend.
I left it out in the rain.
It's wrinkled now, and gooey.
It's not altogether happy
I forgot it in order to have
a long chat with my tentmates.
It is not pleased
that while I reveled in a rainstorm
like a giant bowl of rice crispies
it was getting mushy on the picnic table.
So tonight, I will read it.
I will take it to bed
love its pages with renditions
of speeches long since past
and hope that it forgives me.
I let it get wrinkly.
I promise I still love it.
Will that be enough?
No comments:
Post a Comment