Blocks Ran sat used Papa as a backrest while he stacked blocks woven from wild reeds. Magic rushed ’round under Papa’s skin; it beguiled the child listening to its rhythmic music. Magic beat with his heart and sometimes in counterpoint. Ran’s hair stood up; Papa’s arm draped across his lap securing him in place. Green sparks raced across his father’s arm, leapt over Ran’s head outlining a loose sphere that winked in and out of view. Ran pushed blocks at the peak-a-boo curtain of power there. The block stopped mid-air within the sphere locked. Ran laughed and pushed on Papa’s magic wall that had become a new … Continue reading Poetry 101 Rehab: Father