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( A mother recalls how her son , the storyteller, evolved.) (Poem by Wendy Howe ) That summer when you had an ear infection and could not swim, you sat a blonde boy in a large chair accompanied by a bear. The scent of mint leaves and lemon cooled the heat, the gold shimmer of tea brightened the room's silence and matched your companion's fur. He guarded you from boredom and envy as your sisters splashed and splayed the water with fingertips chasing dragonflies. His presence stirred thought while his eyes mirrored the longing of animals displaced in a land where they used laughter and curious intellect to adapt. You understood this need to cope, coaxing adventure out of strange circumstances. Here, was something unique, a toy stuffed with more than raw fibers of the silk cotton tree. Here , your potential was sewn up yet slipping out as sunlight draped the chair and unfinished daydreams remembered your place. To know more about Wendy Howe All Images & Poems (En) |
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