Proper Read (A Book Came in the Mail)

Small in size, a book of poetry,
bound up, stiff and tight, by the spine,
was brittle beyond its thirty years.
I opened it, and it split,
and I became careful, reading it
partly open. But that’s no way
to read a book, so I opened it wide,
without regard. Sections began
pulling away from the paper spine,
pages relaxed and fell away from each other
along the seam. My tightly wound book,
part by part, page by page, let go and relaxed.
I think I will keep the pages together, loosely.

written June 17, 2025