Sunday, November 6, 2016

My Companions



"When I am near the end of a book,
I have to sleep in the same room with it."  - Joan Didion

My Companions

Quilt-wrapped silence, soft, over-the-shoulder light,
breached only by a crisp cadence of slowly turned pages,
purring feline, or perhaps a winter's fire banked in the grate.

It's hard to let go of loved ones, held tenderly,
pages never creased; occasionally sprawled upon my chest,
eyes having surrendered to their dancing drops of black ink.

I've tried libraries, often drag reluctant feet upon return,
slyly pay a "lost" fee; become a "guardian" -
add to bedside's ever growing, slowly leaning, Tower of Pisa.

Books deeply double stacked await for favor, for obsession
as my finger slides across spines trying to decide
who will share my bed, my mind into the wee hours of the night.

by Margaret Bednar, November 6, 2016

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Play it Again, Toads!"  I chose "The Poetry in a Quote" prompt hosted by Susie Clevenger back in April 2015.


8 comments:

Debi Swim said...

Love the last two lines... books are the only thing I obsess over.

Maude Lynn said...

This is just splendid, Margaret.

Jim said...

Neat poem, Margaret. If I were smart enough, it would be one I'd write. I smiled at the foot dragging to take them back as until I retired I could check a book out as faculty and never bring it back. No fines either. Now I do a lot of mine electronically. At present I have cards from two different counties. On librarian subscriptions, purchases--I think the library pays for the service --of books on Kindle which I get a lot, the checkout goes through Amazon.com. They can't be late, Amazon just pulls the plug. Mrs. Jim thinks they are renewable unless, like most of ours are, they are on hold for others in a queue.
..

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Love this - such a wonderfully eloquent write ❤️

Samyuktha Semi Jayaprakash said...

i love this poem <3

krishnabalajee S R said...

That was one great piece of tribute to out real companions. The ones that changed us into what we are and showed us what we can be. This poem touches me in so many ways and leaves me with a prolonged shiver. Thank you.

Kerry O'Connor said...

I am familiar with this dilemma!

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