Her white suit coat is open and flaps in the wind, filling the space between her raised arms and her body like the wings of an angel. Her hair is shimmering, one blond hunk of it flying skyward. Today she called from Florida voice slurred, spilling commands that I tell her about my separation, my job, my life. Threatening, between bouts of coughing, to fly here in just two hours. And I could see her, hunched over the phone, dried up and shrinking like a root torn from the earth and long forgotten.
Next students write their own poem about a photograph they treasure or one they wish they had.
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