A book is like a ring of fire . . .
It can take me by surprise
Strike in my inner fiber
A refulgent circle:
Its amaranthine promise
Immured, locked in
As concealed inside its self
Hid betwixt two covers
As the lined crystal light
Inside a plain grey geode stone.
In prismed script:
Life caught, and split . . .
Poem from a Sequence:
A Rain of Booklight
Part 1 # 36
Part 1 # 36
© Judith Evans
Deverell, 2014
The
Bookmark Project
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