My Son Moves Out
I will never again
wash farm-job socks
dream to tunes plucked from mandolin
find phone background changed overnight
hear car coast into home’s haven after night out
It’s like coming to the end
of silk binding I’ve been fingering
years of both wrinkles and tenderness
where loose threads now tassel
into something new
11 thoughts on "My Son Moves Out"
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Beautiful. Love the specifics you list. And those last two lines are wonderful! Using “tassel” as a verb–nice.
Thanks, you’re the best!
Very engaging poem. Your word choices are nice surprises junctioned together.
just gorgeous: the silk binding metaphor cuts to the quick
Thanks – not sure where it came from, but that’s not a bad thing.
Absolutely beautiful! Makes me want to cry tho. Brings back memories of what it felt like when they moved out. You definitely captured the feeling.
Thanks! And fortunately he’s buying the house next door, so he can keep his chickens, goats and garden.
‘tassel into something new’–oh that I could hold hard onto that reality instead of pounding away at the Gordian knot of yesterday.
What a gorgeous, moving poem. Love the evocative line “years of both wrinkles and tenderness,” and the entire “silk binding” metaphor.
And “tassel” as a verb–masterful!
Lovely and moving.
Thanks. The closing on his house is next week!