These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.
23 April 2008
It's a library. Voices are low.
We set up in the children's section.
Andrew has his briefcase of books
and his funny storytelling hat.
I'm in my purple Goddess gown,
a fairy costume on this occasion.
Our chairs face a bunch of beanbags
pushed together, brightly patched.
We're early, no audience yet,
but in one beanbag two boys
cluster together. One's little,
maybe five. His brother, about 11,
reads to him very quietly
from a big flat book they both hold.
I can see from here it's mostly pictures,
colours sprawling all over the pages.
This conversation is not in words,
though words are being spoken.
It's in the older boy's tenderness,
cradling the little brother who cuddles up
into his curved side under the sheltering arm.
It's in the younger one's trust
as he wriggles himself into place
then rests in the warm, safe moment.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2008