Walk backwards through the book written so far, <br />Back, <br />Back, <br />Each day a page, so, seventy <br />Since the start. <br /> <br />Turn, <br />Keep turning, <br />And arrive where it started, there, <br />Stop. <br />It starts, in a windowless room, <br /> <br />Where the light was from you and your open door. <br />Sitting at a piano I can’t play, you <br />Closed the door, <br />Spilled secrets, <br />At long last. <br /> <br />From the autumn to the ice <br />We have come half-circle. <br />Two chapters told already, <br />More being written, <br />Making way for a greater library.<br /><br />Annie Jane<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/awaiting-a-greater-library/
