A Blank Line

Scuffed jean pockets
and a hole in
the seat
walk away.

I stand
watching
until I can no longer see
the shape
I fed, and dressed
chased and chastened
for so long.

I know I need to leave,
this campus,
to move on.
I am just not sure how.
what I am to do now?

Not able to just stand,
unmoving at all,
I walk aimlessly,
wrapped within
the anchoring comfort
of my own arms.

Looking up I find
myself beneath the
sheltering arch of
the library and I laugh.
How often in my life
have I turned to books?
Entering, I turn a page.

And I begin
a new chapter
in my own life,
the title
as yet unknown.
A blank line,
but my fingers are poised.
The letters struck
will be up to me.

Beneath my hand
a flier lays
and in idle thought
I pick it up to read.
"writer's group meeting..."
eyebrows raise, interest follows
and I read more intently
absorbing date, time
and possibility.

No longer lost
without hope of
filling the empty hours.
I leave with a light step
and a new purpose
for the nearest office store
to pick up a new print cartridge.