POETRY
Re-Reading
If you wait long enough
it’s as if the book is brand new
except for the parts
you underlined and pointed at
with drawn arrows
and something about the plot
is vaguely familiar
deja vu, you
encounter yourself dog-eared
in the pages, that self
from 15 years ago
like a dream you’d forgotten
until you caught up
with the dreamer
who politely tapped you
on the shoulder
“hey, remember me?”
The other day I read a quote by John Banville on the back of a book of Seamus Heaney’s poetry, which made me think about his book The Sea, that I read many years ago. I went and found my copy, and bang this poem happened.
Readers, thank you!
