woman, entirely

hair on her shoulder-blades,
small, quick steps, those of a bird,
protecting her young, i watch her,
turn to a woman i thought she was
all ready at sixteen, behind her,
there were sprouts of wings,
i had only wonder and pleasure,
knowing she'd fly away from her nest,
and leave us, someday, open-mouthed,
exclaiming wildly, until the rain
drives us back behind the windows
of daring dreams and wondrous flight

Reviews

[iand63]

excellent poem about the pain of parenting and the joy of nurturing.

[highonwords]

thank you so much iand63, for the lovely comment and visit :)

regards,
steph

[gabrielle]

Perhaps, a coming of age poem? Or maybe this spoke of the harsh reality of parents leaving their children in their attempt to provide the latter a better future. Your expression is exceptionally unique :)

[highonwords]

it could be both, ate gabs - thank you so much for the lovely visit and comment :)

steph