When I first started to read
The entire book said:
"Once upon a time"
In monotony, block typeset.
It was one page,
One side,
But then a tale flourished
And calligraphy laced and I
Was happy, enchanted with the
Weaving.
But it did not stop.
The words kept curling
The trees dying.
The story churned and spilled
And I peeked to the next page
And the next
And no end could be found.
Ben Finkel
April 23rd, 2007
(I'm sorry, there is no poem for Friday. Schedule was weird. I will post Thursday's later)
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