The next day I brought my poem to school and something novel happened for my 8 year old self in 1991 where computers were just something you had a class for about 30 minutes per week. My teacher typed up my poem, put a floral border on it, and there it came through her dot-matrix printer. I was so excited. To see MY words on a piece of PRINTED paper! I took pink, blue, purple and green markers and neatly colored the flowers. I rifle through my parent’s basement every time I visit them (which isn’t often these days). Every time I come up empty handed and every time my heart breaks a little more for that lost paper which held my first significant piece of writing in a long journey of growing love for the craft.