Bookmark

A bookmark separates the future
From the part that’s passed.
The pages that it’s stuck between
Remind us what came last.

Each day we live’s a bookmark then;
We know what’s come before
But what comes next may bring us
Brand-new vistas to explore…

Or maybe not. No way to tell
What’s waiting in the wings.
We turn the page, the bookmark moves,
No matter what it brings.