“Reading Sendak to her niece at 37” by Jennifer Beckett

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Her reading was never merely words
from pages. Her eyes, hands, voice became
the story. Lives re-emerged. She read

so that forests grew, dancers romped,
listeners reached up to find their crowns

.                                     Let the wild rumpus…begin!

She read to rebirth the past,
when her now fifteen-year-old
was three and pled        Again, Mommy. Read it again.
She read to bring back
that sweet hope.

She read with giggles reborn
every time she’d start    The night Max wore his wolf suit…

and the longing unfilled
every time she’d replied, exhausted
.                                              Not tonight.
.                                               Now go to sleep.

For a moment, she was twenty-five
again and this book was their

magic. That’s how she read.

-Jennifer Beckett

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