The Letting Go

The Letting Go  by Nancy Schatz Alton


This morning she drove away in the dark, headlights off.

Forgotten headlights lighting up my worry.

The monster comes roaring back:

The one I left behind after her first year.

Her neck will snap!

The other driver won’t see her!

Will they find my contact on the phone?

I’m the one she texts that goes by Mom.


This morning the clear reminder that the universe unfolds

with no mind to my worry.

I can re-heat my coffee,

imagine her singing in choir

or imagine her dead.

Everyone has a fragile neck

and a mother re-heating her morning coffee

calling herself ridiculous, and yet, and yet.


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