The Poetry Upon Your Shelf

You kept the books of poetry
upon your shelf -
Faded, like sun-leached garden gnomes
Out of place and lacking luster
among the photographs of lives and loves
that were long gone
or never there.

You took them down
and read to me
words that others wrote.
Words that captured
by their rhythm
Seduced
by their rhyme.
Each word read
slow and soft and sincere.

You made me believe you
That this too was something you loved;
the sound of words
that give meaning to the beatings
of the heart,
the rhythm of sound
that gives comfort to the yearnings
of the soul.

You walked away
and I did too
And since the sun kissed your
face that day
I have wondered at the source of love
that could soon be as dust-covered
as the books of poetry
upon your shelf.