My daughter is speculating,
again, about moving away.

Her dream: Hawaii, the beach.
I remember that restlessness,

the lure of the greener other side,
of life suddenly new and exciting,

until the moving van,
the teary farewells, jump

out of the realm of someday
and land on the abrupt road

to real change?  to promise?
to the ache of home and who

is left behind?  Young, resilient,
she and her husband would adapt.

The kids would, eventually.  And I
would just have to add more

family to be lonely for, missing
Friday night sleepovers, Saturday

morning snuggles with Mia,
cheering for Izzy’s volleyball team,

carving pumpkins for Halloween,
Easter egg hunts, pool time,

their once close reach.

I would just have to re-learn
how to let go.