Words

I fell in love with words
at age eight,
scribing with care the word "paw,"
which was suddenly beloved.

The first poem came through
at age fourteen,
as I sat, bemused,
at my school desk,
the lines appearing
before me on the page,
coming from I knew not where.

And now, so suddenly,
I am old.
It is the first of April,
the first day of NaPoWriMo,
and I am still
stringing words along.

They are more tired now,
as am I.
But I am grateful
they keep coming.


for Marian's prompt at Real Toads on this first day of NaPoWriMo: One, or being first.