Prose- Small Mirrors

Watching her walk away from the vehicle

Flipping her back pack over her shoulder

Head looking down as she crosses the grass

What will the day have in store

I watch and wonder

And hold out hope for her

Only the best is my deepest wish

If only I had some control

You buy them the bike

And teach them to ride

But you must let go

Even while your fingers continue to clinch

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