got a letter from a mother
mourning the choices of her daughter
made me wonder how you let go
altogether in the end
watched my three year old lucy
paint and play and ask and imagine
made me marvel at the thought i'd someday
have her for a grown up friend
just how much of our input
sticks forever in their psyches
forms their choices and opinions
revelations, nods and bends
what of all the timeless moments
strung together like round glass beads
entwining our overlapping lifetimes -
will we restore those things that slipped through the cracks,
the tears in the fabric - will they heal? will they mend?