To My Son Learning to Read

When you read beside me with each syllable a leaf forms then a bud takes color a bicycle wheel spins a world opens up through your tentative voice from the page. When you read tucked into my side as I look over your shoulder my breath slows to the rhythm of the emerging words which join into phrases gather into stories like notes into song brooks and streams reaching for the sea.

of 5 stories this month > Get unlimited stories
You've read 5 of 5 free stories

Only $1 for your first month.

Get unlimited Monitor journalism.