Letting Go

For Emily

Parents left behind in Holland must have

felt the same loss.

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What did they care about beaver pelts and land grants?

Eylants and hoeks and kils so far from home.


I might resent that siren, New York, if

forty years ago she hadn’t called to me.

I know all the world lies beyond that subway exit.


Dice roll, leaves scatter, I made a choice

to move to this place you couldn’t wait to leave.

I understand.


When I learned to ride a two-wheeler

Dad ran alongside holding the seat.

I still remember the feeling when I realized

he had let go.


Jean Lamberty is a poet living in Dallas.

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Published at 10:10 pm CST