October 2: Spineless

Just yesterday I opened up a book

Beloved by those whose taste I know and trust.

But fifteen minutes later I was hooked-

Engrossed as to the daily grind I bussed.

Fatigue and miscommunications kept

Me from advancing further in the story

But that night as I closed my eyes and slept,

I hunted, and the novel was my quarry.

This morning on the bus, my bag revealed

No longed-for tale. I found myself unable

My self-exasperation to conceal

Recalling that the book was on the table.

Such busy days and too-exhaust...