I found this while researching for my poetry presentation. It didn’t fit the presentation guidelines, but I saved it for poetry Friday.

You are reading a book and you think you know

the end, but others can’t wait- they crowd

on the shelves, breathing. You stop and look around.

It is the best time: evening is coming,

a bronze haze has captured the sun,

lights down the street to come

You turn the page carefully. Over your shoulder

another day has watched you what you do

and written it down in that book

you can’t read till all the pages are done.

William Stafford