Creative Writing Teacher
When I see her bright red hair
in a crowd or in a store
I go over and greet her
and I’m always surprised at her age,
because I often think of her as that
shy ten-year-old her mother drug
into my creative writing class;
and over the next five years
I watched her get excited
about writing poems and stories,
until I said, “Wow, Sarah,
you’re writing better poetry than I write.”
And I know even if my own writing
never amounts to anything great,
someday I’ll see her name in print
and I might strain my muscles
from patting myself on the back.
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