April 17, 2018
Prompt: write a poem re-telling a family anecdote that has stuck with you over time.
You were eleven, I think,
Oldest of the quartet of kids
Set out to explore the woods behind our house.
Old enough to be responsible,
Old enough to be the boss.
So we let you be “free range” that afternoon
And you took advantage of that freedom
To roam the woods and hills and paths
In your little kingdom.
You were gone a long time.
Just as I was beginning to feel
A twinge of anxiety
You lead your tiny corps of explorers
Out of the wilderness.
It would have all be fine
And deemed a great success…
Until Will emerged minus one boot.
You’d been to the river
(I never imagined you’d roam so far)
The boot came off and floated away
You told me later you surely could have retrieved it.
But you didn’t.
You made a wise choice.
And my parent-heart is forever thankful for that choice.
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