At the Book Museum - an original poem

[kellyrfineman]

A couple of years ago, I wrote a handful of poems about books. One of them was written following a visit I made to an exhibit of artists' books. Here it is:

At the Book Museum
by Kelly Fineman

A book of metal, shaped like wings.
A book of gleaming pink stone.
An accordion book of small cardboard squares
    that could wrap, snake-like, around a small room
    twice.

A book of quilt squares bearing postage stamps.
A book on a baby’s dress.
A book in the shape of a bed -
    To learn its story,
    you’d have to turn down the covers,
    then unfold a pile of pillowcases
    one
    by
    one.

A book so small
      you’d need a microscope to read it.

A book so large
    you’d need three hands
    to turn
    one page.

But none of the very best kind of book:
a book that you may hold.