Between You and Me

Who says we have to let them fly,

these children who were bound by cords

of flesh, then need, then, finally, sky?

(I never thought I'd say these words.)

What's wrong with nesting close to home

in branches of the family tree,

where seasons, like a metronome,

count days of continuity?

Why must we always savor crumbs—

the emails, birthday cards, and calls,

the hurried holiday that numbs—

while others celebrate their smiles?

Of course we championed bravery;

who ever thought they'd fly so free?

Carolyn Raphael

First published in The Lyric, © 2011.  Reprinted
by permission of the author.