On Caleb Going to College

At times I feel like this is all a dream, and
I will wake and find he is still two, and
we are walking on the beach hand in hand, the
brilliant light of the descending sun silhouetting us,
causing her some pause before she finally, slowly
takes the picture.

The photo stands on our mantle, accompanied by many others;
poor attempts all to duplicate that one fire-lit evening, the
light daring us to see what lies just beneath:
Glory.

Okay, that’s my lame attempt at free verse, trying to come to terms with having a son going to college. If it makes it onto the blog, please be gentle…And if you’ve made it this far, you deserve a real piece of poetry that gets at the same thing:


Sentimental Moment Or Why Did the Baguette Cross the Road
By Robert Hershon

Don’t fill up on bread
I say absent-mindedly
The servings here are huge

My son, whose hair may be
receding a bit, says
Did you really just
say that to me?

What he doesn’t know
is that when we’re walking
together, when we get
to the curb
I sometimes start to reach
for his hand.

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