I'm very conscious this is my son's last Christmas living at home - he moves out next Summer. (Well, that's the theory at least!) This knowledge colours every moment he's still with us. I have such a strong sense of how I need to make the most of this time ...
Seventeen
Bags packed, parked
in the hall
by the door.
So much luggage.
I look at you
knowing soon
you will reach for the latch,
take your baggage
with you.
Looking back down the hall
I recall
we had this carpet laid
soon after you were born.
Now as I stare
at the threadbare square
on the stairs,
feel the floor draw
my heart down
through my hollowing form,
I see you
prepare
to step out
into the bracing air.
No comments:
Post a Comment