PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

His wings are stretched.

His room is being packed

into boxes.

His childhood,

stored away in my closets.



I watch, silently,

nodding and smiling

as he shows me various things

he's bought to set up house,

but inside,

my heart breaks.



I try to get caught up

in his excitement

and part of me

is happy for him.

But part of me aches

the way a mother aches.



He confides in me

that he's a little scared,

never having been away

from home

and the look in his eyes says,

"I've never been away from Mom"



I know there comes that time

in a parent's life,

when children must go out

into the world.

But wasn't it only yesterday,

that he was born?



It seems that way at least,

as I look at my 19 year old son,

thinking,

"He's my first to fly."

and already my nest

feels emptier.