Pom

I wake in sunshine, relentless bright sunshine in my eyes after a short night, I’m not angry. A happy voice trills from the living room, we read a hundred books and ride the bus to school, his goodbyes the excited rambles of a 2-year-old while I try unsuccessfully to explain airplanes and lengths of time. I’ll see you soon, I say at last and he runs off to a sandbox without looking back. I lace my shoes and head out across the fields, dip into forests, past the horses, around the inlet. The air is cool but the sun is warm, everything is spring. I pack my bags and wonder at how quickly I meld into a life that was so distant; it's the same procedure every time. I stop to pick a flower and stuff it in my bag. There was a time when people left and never came back. Your bag is light, your soul, weightless. I am filled with love; I am free.