This page I read is just a sky.
The words are simply stars of thought.
They may appear together “now”
But they are simply images
Of thoughts that sparked some time ago,
And never in a single “now”.
Some words are from the ‘pre-first draft’,
The one the author ‘jotted down’
But did not know it was a book.
Some words are from the ‘firstest draft’
The one the author risked to ‘write’.
Some words are from ‘revision draft(s)’.
Some words are from their editor(s).
Some words are simply ‘print mistakes’.
The words are “now” inside my mind
But all I see has been “before”
And may not be there “later” though
In some ‘edition(s)’ yet to come.
This starry now’s so beautiful,
I’d measure time in nows I turn.
Minakhi Misra 