Moving Into The Antiquated & Charted Unknown

A few months ago, Number 1 apologised
for temper tantrums - 4 years later -
after witnessing her brother’s glorious display.

Now, we are turning a corner. It is dark.
A poorly lit three lane highway or alley.
She has gone ahead of me.

Her stilettos click-tick betwixt the cobblestones
and grout. My sensible shoes squeak.
I am announcing our arrival

in spite of my precautions. She forges ahead.
I’ve already encountered what might be there.
I have developed the habit of knowing

how the story ends. She wrote:

for feedback on her poems;
for a recipe last week;
about cooking a community-building meal.

Later, laughed at my public joke
about how happy we are
that children eventually grow up

and go away.
This is what we do.
Practice leaving each other behind

for 20+ years. Witness
the serial killers of connection:
first steps, potty training, school......

She states:

I just thought
about how much of your family
you will always carry with you

no matter where you are.