Poetry Reading
SAILING
“There is no frigate like a book,”
penned Emily Dickinson,
“to take us lands away.”
Summers at Hayward Library,
Reading encouraged,
As always:
So kids concocted Airplanes,
Race cars,
Rocket ships Anything that moved Pinned high
On the walls Of the children’s room,
So that if I finished One book a week,
I could have My black and orange Striped Triple winged Triplane With brilliant Blue Pontoons
(in case of a water landing)
Moved forward One square On that Wall.
By summer’s end I’d be around,
And surely,
Surely,
There’d be A prize!
So home I went,
With my big sister,
Loaded down
With six—
Count’em—six Books,
Reading one As I walked.
And all the rest that afternoon,
On into the evening.
And proudly I Boasted Next morning,
This meant my fabulous Triple-winged terror Should advance SIX,
yes six squares On the Children’s Room wall.
The nice librarian— Soft voice,
Sweet smile– Gently stomped my plans:
“Only one square a week, ONLY one!”
I was crushed,
Demolished, flattened — Yet even at age 8 I knew instinctively that Emily was right,
That sailing on a book,
Any book Was always worth The trip,
Even if my Fabulous plane Never moved at all.
I smiled,
And checked out more!
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