Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Yellow Birds Reading

I remember my second grade reading group
the Yellow Birds.
In a dream
I see us sitting on a low riser
the first row of audience participation
reserved for special readers as we
watch the alphabet parade.
26 letters march by
changing before my eyes
into limitless permutations
present within pigments
of color. You know those plastic
magnetic letters children play
with on refrigerator doors?
Letters feel like that to me.
Like I can stick them on my forehead and move
them into spaces of play right here
above my eyes, the alphabet.
This re-arrangement of letters marks not
what I see---it projects what I want to see. I
suppose this sifts down as sensation rather than
aliteral translation of word on printed page.

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