The New Road
My gentle grown son,
I see the age in your eyes,
your soft weariness.
I walk beside you-
my season is darkening,
my heart is the same.
I can’t lift you up-
engage in life on your terms,
you must not look back.
Keep moving along-
the path we made together
can form a new branch.
Children can follow
tramping down the overgrowth,
making their own way.
3 thoughts on "The New Road"
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Love:
My gentle grown son,
I see the age in your eyes,
your soft weariness.
the path we made together
can form a new branch.
Tender and difficult thoughts both, a thoughtful piece
I like the pacing in this poem,
it mirrors the child’s
progress away from the parent