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Paul was excited to see Laney Hawton on his tenth-grade class list. It had been grueling last year, trying to survive the awful grammar, worse spelling, and generally crap writing of his English students. A handful of students had been tolerable, but Laney was the only real star he’d encountered in any class his whole first year of full-time teaching.

“How was your summer, Laney?” he greeted her as she slipped into a desk in the back. She looked tired.

“Rainbows and unicorns, Mr. Davies,” she said. And then she stared out the window.

He frowned but got the attention of the class.

“Okay everyone, we’re going to do things a little differently today. Instead of introductions, since you all know each other anyway, let’s have you write something. You have thirty minutes, and then you’ll read an excerpt to the class.”

“Write what?” Marianne asked.

“Anything you want,” he said. The students groaned, but he tapped his watch, and they all began to write, the room full of the sounds of pens scratching on paper.

He watched the clock tick down.

“Time!” he called, and everyone put down their pens. “Who wants to go first?”

The room was silent, everyone avoiding his gaze, afraid to be chosen. But Laney was looking right at him. Like she knew he’d done this for her. Like she knew he missed reading her work. He’d almost come to think of her as an author, and a good one at that.

“Here,” she said, holding out her notebook. “You can read mine.”

“What did you prepare?” he asked eagerly. He’d intended for the students to read their own work out loud, but he didn’t really care.

“A poem,” she said, and went back to staring out the window.

Paul cleared his throat and began to read.

If we just had two wings and lived THERE

in the almost

between Earth’s chapped lips

and Cloud, rustling your hair with her secrets

The Invisible Always is waiting, nowhere and everywhere.

If we just had two wings and lived THERE

in the almost

between Sky and Water’s dark bodies pressed together

So unconcerned by Moon!

Though she rules them both, they live THERE

just beyond her reach.

If we just had two wings and lived THERE

in the almost

where Wind holds her seeds

an unseen gardener

on the prowl for a home for Tree

a place to play

and sing

and dance.

If we just had two wings and lived THERE

in the almost

in the hint of Mother’s smile

between a curious child full of dirt, and joy, and wonder

and the Wise Woman, tan and steady.

In all the years behind the camera

only the pad of her thumb in frame

the quiet moment-keeper

a protector of memories.

If we just had two wings and lived THERE

in the almost

we would feel that between here and there

between now and then

there is a call

a drumbeat

deep in the Earth.

If we just had two wings and lived THERE

we would almost know

that between the ground and the breath

between nowhere and everywhere

Is Us.

Nobody moved. The class was dead silent.

“Um, Mr. Davies?” Marianne said. “ Yeah, I’m not going, after that. No thanks.” The rest of the students murmured their agreement. Laney continued staring outside.

“Can we just do intros? Like normal?” Kyle asked.

They played two truths and a lie until the bell rang.