For my parents from a travelling child:

I suppose I just missed you,
perhaps we brushed shoulders?
Maybe glanced a look
and checked ourselves,
not knowing if it was us.

But I’m going now.
No time to say goodbye,
ask about your trip,
spend some time together.
After what seems like forever.

Such is our lives,
as I grow and streets become oceans
before you fret.
When once the idea of me away,
separated by so many hours
would have wracked your caring heart.

Now I may go as I whim,
through timezones and checkpoints,
borders growing ever broader
as I become my own.

But even as I am surrounded by laughter
and liberation in miles.
I miss you both so dearly,
my parents- my anchors, my sails.

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