By stevieslaw
Of course it’s magic,
the way the teacher coaxed
me off my easy chair,
where briared and booked,
I planned
to snooze away my twilight.
I find I’m curious again—
that odd peering into things,
I thought I’d
left behind.
Remember
that first poem?
Like a first solo flight—
ground dropping
like Newton’s apples,
the catch of thin breath,
and the wonder
of words.
“Sometimes I find the right word. And then I soar.” – the writer