She’s leaving home, Bye-bye
Sang the Beatles in sixty-five
It never used to make me cry
That June endless rain
Mercilessly soaked the days
And robbed us of summer evenings
The showers merely accentuated
The loss of children who graduated
In a storm of blue gowns
Liberty’s arm rose above the horizon
As the sun dropped below the clouds
That month the kids got away
Did I say it rained every single day?
The ceiling finally fell down
To reveal raw roof timbers
A blue dome of twilight sky
A mild breeze wafted by
With the faintest note of something sweet
Maybe it was relief
It would be understandable to have mixed feelings about being separated from one’s children and at the same time know that it’s in the natural course of things.
Thank you for sharing this poem; it has a tone of comfort in it that appeals to me. Cheers.