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|Volunteer Reading Lesson with Mira|
By Kay Day
She nudges syllables along, then stares
at me when each sentence ends. She always
stops at the sight of words like slip and snare,
because she hates the lisp her mouth obeys.
She likes the pictures best-- a girl beside
the sea, the moon, a flower bouquet in tones
much deeper than those that bloom in beds outside.
She wants the picture talk to go on and on.
Persistent prodding gets her back on track,
almost. She leans on me, then takes my hand.
She says her mama's boyfriend hurt her brother.
That's the reason Mira can't go back.
She pulls the book into her lap. A quick scan
and she points. How do you say this one? Smother.
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Document last modified on: 01/12/2002