Scrabble with E.B. White
His mustache still
surprised me.
I’d assumed as a child that E
was for Emily, but I smiled
and pushed seven tiles his way.
He’d been dead for thirty years,
but I’ll play Scrabble with anyone.
Runt. Ax. Child.
Loving. Win. Web.
Our words were haunted.
I first read Charlotte’s Web
when I was nine, I said.
I still love it. Do you enjoy it too?
Yes, it’s a great story, he said,
brow furrowed. Would you remind me
who wrote it?
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