Coins, feathers, flowers,
jammed between pages as
waystations left by fellow travelers –
A USBC business card,
gum wrappers and dollar bills,
dog-eared chapter breaks,
all things left to mark a place where
a journey ended or
was merely paused –
playing cards and collectibles,
an envelope or
an embossed leather strip custom for the purpose
pieces of garbage and pieces of treasure
whatever’s close at hand or
whatever we can afford to leave –
a daub of lipstick,
a skritch from a pencil,
not that different from us,
always at the moment where
known and read turns to
unknown, holding faith that
unread does not mean unwritten.
The Endless Possibility Of A Bookmark
