it's that same feeling
I get when
my children
and grandchildren
are about to leave
for home
four hours south
they're packing bags
loading their car
stripping beds
washing towels
double-checking
for toothbrushes
under beds for little things
easily left behind
like tiny dinosaurs
wayward doll shoes
lone socks
I dread
the tail lights
heading down
our driveway
those I love rolling away
this morning's
stirring
is not unlike
this feeling~
already missing family
before they leave ~
as I watch
my hummingbirds
remnants
of a charm
heading south
on their long journey
for winter
no wee suitcases
no teeny toothbrushes
no sippy snacks for the road
but departing nonetheless
traveling lightly
I want to hug them
tell them to be safe
tell them I'll fix their favorite
nectar next spring
even weed the lantana
Allison Berryhill of Iowa is our host today for Day 15 of #VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com. She inspires us to write poems about what we missed, or what could have been. You can read her full prompt here.
What You Missed
what you missed
you’d have never seen anyway
the way he looks like his mother
the way he casts his line
the way he asks with concern
the way he answers with passion
the way he doesn’t miss a beat
the way he marches to his own
the way he loves animals like Mimi did
the way he rescues turtles
the way he named his baby duck Steve
the way he knows departure
the way he feels betrayal
the way he talks all scholarly
the way he tells books start to finish
the way he hugs his cousins
the way he thinks in waves of blue
the way he ponders nothing new under the sun
the way he sees the world
the way he doesn’t see the world
five years from now
he’ll carry fewer memories of you
because you were absent
off praying for all the others
at a ballpark
again forgetting your own
that depth finder could see fish
but will never show the depth of
what you missed
Common Threads 