I cannot imagine ever letting go
of his hand in that very place.
Allowing him to run on ahead,
fearing the worst and always worrying.
Yet, later I stand at the busy road,
my child with arms swinging free.
He’s somehow grown enough
for me to know that he is ready.
I don’t know how it happened,
just one day I could trust.
And this happened to be the day
that I could let him grow up.
There’s been a lot of that over the years,
the clutching and letting go.
The holding back, and saying ok
right there on the busy road.
I may have not have got the timing right.
Perhaps we stood too long,
or hurried, rushing on over.
Him too far ahead, me not far enough behind.
Now it’s late nights, driving and girlfriends,
another busy road.
I simply trust that he’ll watch both ways,
before crossing to where he is going.