Voices on the Wind Voices on Relaxation
Playing Pool by Wilda Morris Between split shifts in the kitchen Paul and I found a pool table in the hospital basement. He tried to teach me how to stand, how to picture my shot and aim. I always lost. In prayers I pleaded for Paul to invite me to prom. Did he think I looked like Minnesota Fats, or was it that I had no clue how to use that cue stick? My break shots always missed the mark. I never put him in my pocket, never sent him caroming. There were no kiss shots.