Several years ago I had the honor of signing at a renowned bookstore in Denver, Colorado cleverly named Tattered Cover Book Store. I bought a t-shirt that day to commemorate the special event and, woven of soft blue cotton, it quickly became one of my favorites. Through the years I wore that shirt as I wore the covers of my treasured books, reading late into the night. Now the t-shirt itself is a “tattered cover”.

I have oft remarked of this coincidence—the shirt existing exactly as its logo implies...

                                                     My Tattered Cover

                                                         My tattered cover wraps silken pages

                                                         Weathered by memories of fingertip nights

                                                         And legs curled in sun drenched chairs

                                                         Words playing leap frog in affable rows

                                                         Folding—origami of time and tale

                                                         Bound and binding

                                                              Cadence remembered like a song

                                                         My tattered cover drapes tender heart

                                                         In yesterday’s fabric still loved

                                                         Soft as puffs of dandelion poised

                                                         Found dancing against familiar curve

                                                         Folding—communion of cloth and body

                                                         Worn and wearing

                                                               Each warmed by the other

                                                         Landmark where the two assemble

                                                         Silken pages and tender heart

                                                         Ample shelves surrender dreams unending

                                                         And far-flung journeys real or imagined

                                                         Holding—bounty of magic and paper

                                                         My Tattered Cover

                                                               Rugged brick shouldering the wind

                                                                  – Brooke Bessesen, July 2009