Page One

Photo by: Abby Sarg

PAGE ONE

It is November: the eleventh time this year that I have held my breath and counted to thirty

If I could, I would leave November sitting all alone at the restaurant table

And I would run all the way back to the beginning, to page one

But I have a feeling that the page one that I would find is not the one I was hoping for

It doesn't smell like the bookstore any longer There is no room for change

I can see now that there are too many paragraphs between here and there

That are written poorly, and too quickly- with haste and without reverence

The pages between are records of ghosts Moments I've breathed in, but could not hold in my lungs for long

- NIGHTBIRDE

Photo by: Abby Sarg