Saturday Poem / On reading children's books
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She's marshaling her defenses,
preparing to dismiss the book
as simplistic, its sentiment
overdone, the descriptions
unworthy of a greeting card,
preparing to tell anyone
who interrupts her
that next week she'll embark
on "War and Peace,"
but then she's undone
by two lines of dialogue;
reaching for the tissue box,
her hand closes on air,
the box as empty
as her excuses.
First Published August 18, 2012 12:00 am

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