Monday, August 14, 2023

The Leaving

It is a rift. 

A tear, 

a palpable shift

in the delicate equilibrium

that keeps us 


She is my tiny raw-hearted owl girl. 

She sobbed

and clung  to me when I left her

at daycare.


I am haunted by her grief.

Mine. Ours.

We parents have all known the agony

of peeling those tiny fragile fingers off 

of our bodies

still warm

from the rushed desperate clutching.

This is the same


terrible truth.