She lifted the backpack by the straps from his shoulders
And he looked up in dismay
A landscape strange but welcoming enough
Of granddaddy oaks bunny owls and swirling blue lady streams
A necessary act repeated becomes a routine
But who judges the necessity of necessity
The style of clothing
The accessories braces or spectacles
And you soon forget the specifics of the day
The painful intricacy of script and improvisation
Utility poles pigeons and wet black top
Potholes and manhole covers
Viewed from the lightly padded interior
Straps buckled and talk radio

He had chums and then letters came crashing down
He liked looking at pictures and it didn’t bother him
That he did not speak the words that accompanied them
But pretty soon the words took over
The phonic words the words as themselves
Sight words
And the world became at once
More masterable and more mastering
Less bewildering perhaps than the colorful animations
But more demanding more sudden more questionable
And worse treading through two realms
The same oaks and streams and potholes
But now translucent shapes of the future
Defined by resolutions and the tables of the law