Zed Poem by Cristina M. Moldoveanu

besides getting old
drying up and whitening like peeled off walnut limbs
I began to forget the primary school lessons
maybe this is a bad sign
one day I realized that I forgot how to handwrite Z
the way they taught us
you know it was not easy
at home I knew zed form the newspaper
I sat on my father's knees
asking him what's this letter and he answered
then I went out to scribble zed with a pebble on the sidewalk
my teacher loved me even if I knew to read beforehand
little by little from one blotch to another
I learned to write small crooked sticks slanting lines circles
later even the letter zed for zoo and zebra
for Zorro the adventurer or Zeus the immortal
I grew up like any other with two zeds in my mind
writing the easier one like all the rest
we all learn since childhood to have a double life
to hide a part of our hearts
until Puss in Boots becomes a memory with too tight boots
I think that maybe I became too old to be able to write the letters
forgotten in my back pocket