Parallel

 It’s not as if a reel of time moved forward,
 or another was erased - I just forgot
 to count the years.

 When you left home after graduation
 I tried to graft roses in arid weather
 then learned Origami-
 spent the days arranging paper flowers.
 I missed you like a forbidden obsession.

 You struggled to find your way, writhing
 out of a cocoon like a moth – fearful
 and fascinated at once. I tried to understand
 you through childhood photo frames-
 how you walked across the lawn

 in the hasty strides of a five- year- old,
 fuzzy hair waving with the winds, head
 steady on your shoulders, eyes
 so determined. With your long skirt
 carefully held, your steps were confident.

 I knew then you wouldn’t need watching over,
 but I failed to keep my intention, and
 continued to hold you captive to my care.
 Now that we shall meet against
 a hiatus of expectations, I am afraid

 I may end up watching over you again
 and you will feel
 I didn’t grow up in your absence.