Audience of One

My Darby

I find her in the kitchen in a dancer’s pose… she reads the labels on the cereal boxes… she reads the notes on the refrigerator… she reads the opened mail on the counter…

I find her in the restroom after she brushes her long beautiful hair… she reads the shampoo bottles and the conditioner bottles… she reads the packaging paper on the bars of soap… she reads the smallest of words on the tube of toothpaste…

I find her in the family room in her favorite pajama dress… she pulls books off of the bookshelf and reads the slender spines… she reads the first drafts of old book reports left by the older children beside the printer… she reads the journals created by the young handwriting of classrooms of the past…

I find her in the den curled up in my favorite chair… she reads magazines that find their way out of their assigned basket beside the couch… she reads the fading label on the colorful pillow propped up on the love-seat… she reads the streaming words on the bottom of the screen on the television…

I find her in her room with her favorite soft blanket, snuggled in her bed… she reads her chosen book from the book pile in her classroom… she reads her sister’s favorite books, in secret… she reads books given to us by dear friends who know they will have a good home…

And I find her curled up on the couch with me as I lie down and form a readers desk for her with my knees… she reads her newest chosen adventure. She always starts with the cover… she reads the title page as she looks to my eyes for signs of my attention.  She clears her throat as she smooths out the open pages and she reads to me…

She reads to me with enthusiasm… she reads to me with purpose… she reads to me in color… she reads to me with full expression. I am her audience of one…

                                                                 Shannon R Killman