the books
lined up straight
on the shelf waiting
for someone to open them
to read the well worn words,
and they wait and wait, they are
packed into boxes and yet still they wait
and then finally, light shines onto their pale pages
but the wrongs hands hold them: worn, too big, rough hands
the right hands wore down to bare skeletal remains long ago
I love how each sentence adds one more word to the line as you go down the stanzas.
ReplyDeleteIt shows progression as far as age, hinting that the reader long ago perished of old age.
It's also interesting that you neglected a period at the end. You only used commas and a colon. Meaning that the story is not over right? They are the wrong hands, but nevertheless, they are still hands that read.
Thank you. I don't really like this poem. I just threw it together because I needed one for the day. And once again you're giving me more credit than I'm due. :)
DeleteI like the "shape" of this poem :) It's a good description of a TBR shelf that waits and waits and WAITS for so long to be read!
ReplyDeleteI totally see what you mean! It's amazing what you can discover even about your own poems. ;)
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