I will never taste bubbly water

without tasting the college discussions of last year

That filled my mouth with sour bubbles of nerves

next to plastic bottles that filled the garage, chilled from winter’s iceoutside.

You proudly bore your Georgia roots,

they were the exposed branches of the big tree in the field next to the house

a crisp breeze blowing through them.

The Chicago wind bit your cheeks and froze your fingertips.

How could I know you sacrificed happiness for the sake of home?

I thought mothers were as sure as their college tuition.

How could I know your desire for dreaming

fizzed out for those you love?

You daydream of Athens

Savannah, and Atlanta.

The sticky summer heat

met with the refreshment of your bubbly water

in hundreds of cans and bottles.

I think of what could have been, endless days of

bulldogs and freedom and a communications degree.

Heat dissipates and the the tab of winter popped open over the campus

as you rode the Metra back home,

head pressed on the plexiglass window,

remembering to pick up sister from school and run an errand for mom

As the train pulls further north from the Sunbelt

and your backpack becomes heavy

with the books and letters from UIC piled up inside.