The Book Worm On the Last Page
Books came in his life early,
absorbed in the pictures in them
the two-year old’s nascent imagination
morphed him into a book worm.
He grew up with other timely interests,
many passing passions came and went,
but the childhood worm stayed on
as a constant creeping companion in his head.
The flair of books attracted him
like an obsessed honey bee to flowers,
he enjoyed the flavor of the alluring nectar
concealed under the petals of printed words.
Adrift on the flow of the exciting contents
he couldn’t stop sailing before being satiated,
until the inquisitive journey came to an end
and he rested content where the authors left him.
The racks filling the small space he has are all full,
safe between the covers are his trove of treasure,
some explored, some still untouched
for now he is fast running out of his time.
His myopic eyes so much impaired
nearly lost vision to the strain over the years,
he now feels the senile worm crawl
on the last page of his own book.
March 14, 2019
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