Softly Bound

I saw this image of Heartbreak Ridge,
An image to which I claimed
No affluent understanding:
A softly bound book
With secrets of the Knight,
Unto whose pages I seek
The wet whisper of a dawn
Bird's voice. But though
the pages are long,
The days are not. As poets pine
in solitude, so do I lay
on green grasses, closing the eyes
of the Naked Sun,
paging through hearts.