The Poetry Fan

Weezie is lying on the carpet in the bedroom she shares with Clam.  She is reading Shel Silverstein's "Where the Sidewalk Ends," from his collection of poetry for children.  

I sent this book to you, Weezie, thinking that one of the grown-ups in your life would read and perhaps interpret the poems for you and with you.  Poetry is sometimes less straight-forward in meaning than prose, went my thinking.  And my last attempt to woo you to rhyming verses did not go well.  But this time, because it was a different poet, because you are older now, whatever, you have acquired a taste for Silverstein.  I like his writings also.  Perhaps another volume will find its way to you sometime this fall.