Read the poem below and answer the question that follows. “Listening to Her Practice: My Middle Daughter, on the Edge of Adolescence, Learns to Play the Saxophone”by Barbara Cooker For Rebecca Her hair, that halo of red gold curls,has thickened, coarsened,lost its baby fineness,and the sweet smell of childhoodthat clung to her clotheshas just about vanished.Now she’s getting moody,moaning about her hair,clothes that aren’t the right brands,boys that tease.She clicks over the saxophone keyswith gritty fingernails polished in pink pearl,grass stains on the kneesof her sister’s old designer jeans.She’s gone from sounding like the smoke detectorthrough Old MacDonald and Jingle Bells.Soon she’ll master these keys,turn notes into liquid gold,wail that reedy brass.Soon, she’ll be a woman.She’s gonna learn to play the blues. Source: Cooker, Barbara. “Listening to Her Practice: My Middle Daughter, on the Edge of Adolescence, Learns to Play the Saxophe.” Ordinary Life. New York: ByLine Press, 2000. El Camino College. Web. 6 May 2011. Which line from the poem illustrates a simile?