A Green And Ancient Light
“I bent over my notebook at the table, trying to add in the mirror-script, the reversed versions of each line in R ——’s poem. It wasn’t easy, and I needed to keep erasing.
Grandmother had her chin against her chest, and I thought she was asleep. But suddenly, she sprang up and hurried to the bookcase. At her request, I brought the lamp closer.
Running her fingers over the spines of books on the bottom shelf, she pulled out a volume of medium size with a dark blue cover. Then she straightened, seized her well-worn dictionary, and carried both books back to her chair. Unceremoniously, she turned the dial and clicked off the radio just in the middle of a crescendo.
“What is it?” I asked in mounting excitement.
“Give me a minute.” As she began flipping through the blue book, she said, “Read me that poem aloud.”
I did so—and then a second time, when she asked me to.
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