Dogeared By Basil Humphrey

I am well worn, thumbed through, creased at the edgesAlways stuck on the same page, always mid-sentence,I can neither avert my eyes, turn thoughts, nor paperFor it is my life’s work, knowing something of what’s gone beforeBut no clarity as to what comes nextI live in the now of uncertaintyNo future, beyond skittish dreamsMy imprint…

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