My children grown

My children grown and suddenly,

the sense of something lost,

intangible and barely known;

I’d overlooked the cost.

As I had stretched in welcome,

in tumultuous birthing hour

a sense of new beginnings

rose; for time to then devour.

It seemed eternity had called

and smiling, offered all,

yet written small, ironically,

the words:’A loan. No more.’

Time took drifting wisps of years,

rolled up and ravelled fast,

and handed them so seriously;

the day did come at last.

And with the final reckoning,

the coins for counting called,

I straightened childhood’s collar

and waved a sad farewell.

The cost had risen with the years,

a price I’d never thought,

yet one to pay with honour;

my children’s future bought.

I wrote this in 1990 when my children were 19 and 18. I had yet to learn that you always remain connected and that even as you let them go, you remain linked by bonds, albeit unseen, and will do until the end of life, or, perhaps even beyond.

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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