By Donovan Baldwin
What book is this
My hand has touched
Near lost beneath my chair,
Waiting quietly
Without complaint,
Forgotten and
Ignored so long
Resting faithfully
At my side until,Greetings exchanged,
Once more together
We set out to
Reacquaint ourselves with
Old familiar byways,
Wandering off in conversation
And contemplation,
Along roads which will, perhaps,
Lead us to somewhere
We have never been?
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Painting: Hands Holding A Book by Wilhelm Leibl
