It’s a breath I didn’t know
I was holding

escaping into dewy air,
tendrils curling out across

the morning as birds sing us
a soundtrack for this sendoff.

I’ve gone before,
left them to practice my craft,

to be in community with
other creative folks,

but this time, they’re leaving me.
Off to sleep away camp.

Off to another level of growth.
And it will always feel too soon to

send them out seeking new
adventures in this harsh world.

And they’ll come back
changed by their experiences,

even if the slightest.
And just as my same breath

can never return into me,
my children spread themselves

out into this life.