The Arrow

(For those who sent a child off into the world.)

Let you go today.

We are not the same.

Even though

we share a common name.

We are the bow

and he the arrow.

We are the bone

and she the marrow.

We tried to aim

so the flight would be true.

But the flight is not ours.

It’s theirs to do.

They may fly to the left,

to the right,

up or down.

We might feel them whiz by

or not hear a sound.

We loose the arrow.

We let go.

We lose the arrow

so they might know.

Who they are.

Apart from us.

Not every star

will fall and bust.

Can't go far

sans dangerous.

Reset the bar.

Release with trust.


Photo by Mar Startari, 8-18-18

Maria Startari-Stegall