With cradle-hands I’ve hemmed-in worlds
And fingertipped the pages
And often I’ve been borne aloft
In wind-filled sails of phrases
I’ve voyaged every land and sea—
To alien worlds beyond us,
And traveled back in seconds flat
To pen my correspondence
But should my missives sail amiss,
I pray some errant breeze
Won’t tip the prows of those who browse
My paper-thin terrenes
© 2022 Cheryl L. Abbott (in tribute to Emily Dickinson’s “There is no Frigate like a Book”)