How does Billie Jo manage to get permission to play piano at the Palace? Why was this a good strategy to use?
Here is the story:
I handed Livie the memory book we’d all
filled with our different slants.
I couldn’t get the muscles in my throat relaxed enough
to tell her how much I’d miss her.
Livie
helped clean up her own party,
wiping spilled lemonade,
gathering sandwich crusts,
sweeping cookie crumbs from the floor,
while the rest of us went home
to study for semester reviews.
Now Livie’s gone west,
out of the dust,
on her way to California,
where the wind takes a rest sometimes.
And I’m wondering what kind of friend I am,
wanting my feet on that road to another place,
instead of Livie’s.