I’ll Die With a Book in my Hands
I love books. I love words.
I love fantastic worlds
and mundane ones.
I love reading in bed,
in the bathtub, standing
in lines, at the doctor’s office,
at my desk at work.
I will probably die
With a book in my hands.
I could not read today.
None of the books on my shelf
spoke to me. None on my Kindle,
none at the library. No audiobooks,
nothing.
I just sputtered to a halt
in the middle of an afternoon,
like a car out of gas.
I’m not sure
what to do with myself
if I can’t read.
What do non-readers do?