Wander through the library shelves
and smell the stories that they hold,
watch them unfold as the letters scramble round
before you open their book.
They chatter, waiting between the covers,
some watch the others play out their scenes
and others act and dance or cry if that's what the writer said.
As you walk past, they rush to their spots,
curve quickly into lines you'll understand, and wait.
Anticipating your curious eyes, they dress themselves up
with serifs, a dash here, a spot there.
They space themselves neatly, for your viewing pleasure,
and the older ones have to stop the baby ones from wriggling with excitement.
Do you know when the words seem to dance on the page,
and you just can't focus? Each letter shivers
and shimmies up and down as if it is alive.
Do you know, when the words seem to dance on the page,
they really are dancing.
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