Jul 20, 2017 · 1 min read
Reading
I’m learning to read all over again,
The words once more are only half
Understandable
And I mutter as my eyes drift across the page.
The memory comes back
Of my three year old self and a nibbled on board book
Where I first discovered that those mysterious swirls
Could code all the words in the world.
Here I am, grown, with a book in my hand,
Faced with an unfamiliar tongue,
And,
As before
I struggle and stammer
And burn with frustration
And then,
As long ago,
The beautiful sentence rises like Aphrodite
From the sea of incomprehension.
Hi! Like my work? Then consider donating through PayPal. Thank you!
