A child's book from his past
Cover cracked, pages yellowed and scribbled
It opened tired, with a sour breath,
His eyes misted as he looked, saw it new
Grandpa's wrinkled hands turning the pages
Fun adlibbed dialogue teasing his ears.
It's old and simple, far from the best but . . .
Once closed, the book rested
Back on his favorites shelf
Poet's Notes: How easily I could give my favorite song or book or movie as a teen, and how hard it is even to give a top ten now. Sentimentality can play a part in favoritism, but that isn't a bad thing. My favorites are more numerous, flowery, and meaningful now, and I'm sure they'll keep changing, while old ones rest in my heart.