The Woven Anchor

I tilted the cream bookmark upright against the woven spine of the navy book, testing how it caught the midday light. A faded silk ribbon marker, slipped long ago between the closed pages, hung down toward the shelf floor with its frayed end dusting the dark oak grain. Kneeling on the polished wood, I gathered the gossamer ribbon into my paper hands and guided its limp tip through the small scalloped notch at the bookmark's crown. The pale green thread slipped into the notch with a gentle hush, holding the card perfectly steady against the heavy buckram cover. Under the leaning volumes, it stood like an anchored green leaf.