and post notes and photos about your poem like Ann Foster.
My friend lives in a high rise,
somewhere the other side of Manhattan.
What does that even look like?
She pays more money than I make in a year…
to keep her flat for a month.
It has incredible windows that look out,
I wonder what you can see?
It also has a swimming pool on the roof.
Wow, how did they do that?
Some days she calls me.
Her voice is a little sad.
She often asks me about the cement angel,
the one in the back garden.
It is covered in moss and green vines.
When we were little girls,
we played in the garden,
The angel watched.
It was a good time in our lives.
My friend loves her place she lives in now.
It is everything that anyone could dream of…
I know she is happy.
But when she calls,
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2019