Morning light on the first day of the last month of 2018 reflecting off my rag doll’s skirt. A stack of tiny paper books are sewn to her left hand (not visible in this photo), faded pink bow to her hair. She was created to represent the courage of the Little Rock Nine and the spirit of hope. She was adopted from the DuSable Museum of African American History and gifted to me in 1999. I named her Abigail Louisa. She has helped me move house, leave a marriage, find footing in a jimmy-rigged career, build poems, raise a daughter, and feather an empty nest. Her loose seams remind me, always, there is possibility.