Engrossed in a volume of poetry
you stopped on the sidewalk,
and soaked in the lusciousness
of the words -
contemplated their meaning,
their substance,
the way they moved you.

There in the sunlight
you slogged around in their darkness
and emerged with clouded eyes,
your hands dripping with the
essence of their maker -
the artist creator that through
mere ink on a page
shaped a piece of your soul.