the whitsun weddings again

when

i turn the pages of this old

book,

frazzled

and worn,

the binding broken,

i expect

to find another gem

hidden

between

the pages, an unexpected

poem

unread,

waiting just for my

eyes.

i wet my fingers

and turn,

and turn and turn

the yellowed pages,

and at last

there it is,

another one to my

surprise.