by grimbeau

Came across The Book of Sand
beneath ragged jagged edge
buff beige dusty envelopes
(yes, I am a lady of letters)
bright yellow blue black cover
page turner guardian
tiger stares me out,
Aztec Mesmer—stark migraine
must open the window,
sudden urge to air the air
nice icy chill low sun
cold steam chuffs bright misty air
horse nostril ectoplasm
novelty will soon wear off.
Write to ease the passing of time
seems as good a reason
as any I have heard so far…