Someday Your Babes Will Fly (Empty Nest II)

I knew

by the frenetic flight

and non-stop feedings

of last night, the time was near

for babes to launch before their parents

dropped from sight, exhausted to the tip of every feather.

Just when I think they can't keep pace

another day, it stops in no uncertain way

and quiet shrouds the garden.

Their house is empty.

In vain I scan the sky

for birds in sight

instead I find cloud-balls of

down resting on the ground nearby,

Heaven knows, we all drag some

baggage with us as we go

upon our way.

When I was ten, our neighbors moved to Missouri.

That night, I walked in

through an unlocked door

and roamed the silent hall

and rooms where just a week before

such easy fun was had,

vacant now, and they were off

to their new lives and friends,

even still I feel a little lost upon

remembering that day.

Fledging is tough on mama birds,

that morning when their babies find the sun

and in their jubilation fly

off to California.

Someday, your babes will wave goodbye,

and you may feel the same as I

still do

miss you

so very much.

(C. Healy, 2019)

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