“Wonder”

c. 2026 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(2-26)

 

I always wonder

When words bang around the bone circumference, inside my head

From wall-to-wall, intense and noisy

How it does not upset my balance

With a bout of vertigo

I stay on course, safe and steady

Already versed in such pleasant distractions

A childhood effect which I recall with pride

My fingers used to go numb

Sitting at an Underwood portable, still on my father’s desk

A single bulb glowing in the corner

I liked to steal his chair, late at night

And pretend to type

Eventually, this playful pondering became an obsession

Gibberish and nonsense turned to timely thoughts

I would peer at the blank pages

Intent on making them come alive

And in the process, revealing myself as a budding wordsmith

A confessor, speaking truth

At least within the conscious confines of a naïve kid who had much to learn

I made grammatical errors and spelling flubs

Failings that were polished and put right

With enough practice

And precision

Pencil marks and ink-white

A dictionary at the ready, to check for clues

Arms arched, and hands akimbo

Untrained and unaware

That I lacked the usual skills associated with such pursuits

Had I known better, surrender might have stalled this quest

But I did not face such a test

I kept tapping keys

With an encyclopedia volume, held between my knees