Words (to her) are — well,
I don’t know what they are.
That is why we do the lessons.
Perhaps (to her) they are birds —
each word a flock
of small, black birds.
Or maybe miniature furniture
moved into a room
as my finger reveals them
one
at
a time.
When she gets distracted
and I have to say, “Sound it out,”
again
maybe she is thinking of trees,
tiny trees
with strange roots
and fruit that floats above them.
Or maybe she really is thinking
about Pat and his cat,
and I am the one who wanders on
to birds and trees and furniture.
Théa Rosenburg
Théa Rosenburg has books in every room of her house—except the laundry room. She also has laundry in every room of the house—even the laundry room. Make of it what you will. She writes about children’s books at Little Book, Big Story.
Latest posts by Théa Rosenburg (see all)
- The Mistmantle Chronicles, by M.I. McAllister - May 8, 2019
- The Little White Horse, by Elizabeth Goudge - May 9, 2018
- Whatever is Pure and Lovely - January 1, 2018
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