Gentle etching

doorway

My child is changing places with me.
Her first nerves awaken my jaded awareness.
First license. First unfixable sob, soon.
Each transition a tip toe into doorways.
Learn to say goodbye, now. Be fully me, now.
So when the day comes I won’t fracture into useless parts.
The piece she carved will be but my gentle etching
Not my breath’s only blueprint.

Image credit: www.everywheremag.com 

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