The Pages Flew By That Summer

each early morn started with a new book,

the fresh smell of ink perfuming the air,

and each turn of page felt like a great hook

till I was at ready with a new spare.

*

falling in love with book boys was easy—

Darcy, Rochester, Laurie, Aragorn—

with little chance of them being sleazy,

but, ah, they were fictional, what a thorn.

*

but the adventure called frequent and most—

daring heists, romances, and clever twists—

where I stayed awake late enough to boast

and made up my own first tales long in lists.

*

all summer I read cover to cover,

becoming a lifelong story lover.