I taught a student
once who seemed to love
books more than people;
it was hard for her
to look another
in the eye, for hers
when open were glued
to a page, some book.
Brain-damaged, she read
with such attention,
you would ask of her
no more than she gave.
Things you might take for
granted, startled her,
and left her perplexed
by the noise, alone.
But the still quiet
of reading bucked up
her spirit and she
was at ease, reading.
No comments:
Post a Comment