Borrowing from the library worlds and bundles, hearts and triumphs, characters for company, facts that pull 
try this, try that. 

But today,
reading a poem about home,
a polished maple leaf,
extending its stem like an arm,
falls from the pages
where it had been placed to dry
by another poetry fan.
A forgotten leaf left or purposely
so a guest could receive the unexpected. 

I delight in the dilemma of
let it hitchhike back in the book
or is it my gift to sit in my kitchen
on the large maroon plate
where it will remind
how poems arrive. 

5/24/19 Jill Rothman