Fuel

Even at this late date, sometimes I have to look up The word "receive." I received his deep And interested gaze A bean plant flourishes under the rain of sweet words Tell what you think—I'm listening The story ruffled its twenty leaves * Once my teacher set me on a high stool For laughing. She thought the eyes Of my classmates would whittle me to size But they said otherwise We'd laugh too if we knew how I pinned my gaze out the window On a ripe line of sky That's where I was going