Don't Turn the Page

A promise fulfilled

Almost 40 years of journals. Photo MPM, 2025.

Don't Turn the Page

Wait!
she cries,
Don’t turn the page!

My poem is speaking to me;
I’d recognize her voice anywhere.

I know what will happen,
she continues,
you’ll ink a tiny star

next to my
flawed transmission

to remind yourself
to come back and polish me
to a high shine

but you won’t, I know;

you’ll move on,
midwifing
more ideas

from formlessness
to paper,

never to return.

I’ll never again
see the light of day.

Don’t,
she says,
not this time;

I traveled a long way to be with you…
but I didn’t journey here
just to be with you;

I came through you
to reach someone
you’ve never met,

to spark him to speak up,
to let her know she’s not alone
in her imperfection.

If you turn this page,
if you leave me here,

I’ll not find the heart
I came to touch.

Please. Free me.

So here she is.
Because she asked.
Because I promised.

Your turn.

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As always, keep your light shining bright.
xox
M