Counterform.

I learned to read on your lap

Sounding out the letters softly

Tiny hands tracing the shape of meaning

In the park the swings, high into the sky

Catch me when I fly.

The car swerved. Shattered glass.

Your arms stopped me. Nose at windscreen.

Held me while I cried.

Far

Far

Away

Father

And Farther

At the school gate I was too old for your hand

But I reached out

Anyway.

I watched them kiss theirs on the cheek

Before running into the playground.

I balanced one foot in front of the other

Following the red line of the basketball court.

Watching them play.

No longer needing to trace letters with my fingers

I became good at reading edges.

Like open lips.

Doorframes.
Margins.
The seat nearest the window.

The one without my back to the wind.

There were words I learned
to dance around.

Daughter was safe.
December.
Dinner.
Distance.

Some letters are harmless
until they follow you home

The D hard like a corner.
Dog.
Door.

                                                                                          defined.

               displaced.

duty.

Then softer still, like a hook –

 reduced.

A straight line
tethered to a curve,

A kite trying
to come back around

and always stopping

just short.