To a Daughter Leaving Home

by Linda Pastan

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



  1. Loved this poem when my dad first gave it to me; love it now. We're all that 8 yr old, aren't we.

  2. Oh. Time flies and takes one's breath away, doesn't it? Your daughter is lovely.

  3. We had one leave home to start a new school year in September... quite a strange feeling indeed. I suppose we'll get used to it. Maybe ?


Post a Comment

Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

Popular posts from this blog

Saturday in CinCity. The CollegeGrrrl Guest Writer Edition.

Sunday in CinCity. The "Three Things I Know About Life...It Goes On" Edition

A Year with EB White