When The Dry Leaves Fell

in poetsunited •  6 years ago  (edited)

Do you enjoy reading books
We stoked the pyre
ashen faces turned

The outcast sat to one side
hands crushed between two weights
submitting all pages before chapter three
a blinding final four paragraphs

If they did not agree with his indecision
he would find his feet immersed in water
a battle breaking out

The page burners would bicker
with page turners
who could hold forth until the ink dried
all inspiration from the paper

Identical fires burned with every turn

nonsense no more
all was sedately serious

between the hibernating covers

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