To a Daughter Leaving Home

Linda Pastan

(1932-2023)

To a Daughter Leaving Home

When I taught you

at eight to ride

a bicycle, loping along

beside you

as you wobbled away

on two round wheels,

my own mouth rounding

in surprise when you pulled

ahead down the curved

path of the park,

I kept waiting

for the thud

of your crash as I

sprinted to catch up,

while you grew

smaller, more breakable

with distance,

pumping, pumping

for your life, screaming

with laughter,

the hair flapping

behind you like a

handkerchief waving

goodbye.

________________

There are certain poems which set you up for a powerful last line or two. This is one of them. The set-up perfectly shapes the worry for her young daughter like a potters hands at the wheel.

Then, "the hair flapping behind you like a handkerchief waving goodbye."

Poems like these are not hard to understand but it is wise to just sit with the emotions which come from those last lines.

Give yourself a few minutes to plumb your reactions.