Fortuitous Poem by Lewis Thomas

I used to stumble my way through the Florio translation,
Hard going because of the antique language
But worth all the trouble nonetheless,
Until Donald Frame version in American English came out,
And I was off and running.

It became my habit to turn the top corner of any page
On which something so remarkable was written
That I knew I would want to find it again.
(I have a poor memory and need to do this sort of thing.)

Now, eight years or so later,
More than half the corners are turned
So the book looks twice as thick sitting on the table
And I have discovered a new interest in Montaigne:
What is there on all those unturned pages
That I have read but forgotten,
Still there to be discovered.