Clear or distorted, in your poem today tell us something about the reflections you see — in the world or in yourself.
Last Thursday, our son (who looks like me and thinks like me)
Walked out our door. Onto a plane. Into the real world.
He was ready.
Believe it or not, so were we.
I tried to be sad
As my friends sniffled and asked
How I was doing with it all
But I couldn’t dredge up sadness
All I could do was remember.
Back in the day — we were free
As he is now.
Friends join him, cheerfully decorating
The holiday tree for their first home.
His Facetime calls are simply
A reflection —
of how life used to be.
This post is part of the Poetry 101 course from the WordPress Blogging University.