Reading Poem by Tony Kemp

A slim volume,
undistinguished,
I languish,
dust-covered,
on a dust-covered shelf,
unnoticed,
almost
by most.

Only
you
regularly
reach
to read –
no marker
to keep your place,
you
know me by
heart –
contents to index,
each word,
syll a ble,
l e t t e r
and more:
the very

spaces

between the

lines.


Accepting
my leaves
for what they are,
you do not
compareandcontrast;
merely
read,
and know;
and I,
well-thumbed now,
am humbled,
and,
being appreciated,
live.