Childhood is milkweed,
a pod develops, it's seeds disperse far and wide. The milkweed in our yard is finally dry, It's our annual and joyful ritual to release them to the wind and wish them good luck, and for butterflies to land on them in summertime. We avoid talking about the future. My child finds it scary to think about college and being away from us (at least for now). Someday, she will just fly off into the wind without a thought to look back, I know, but not today.
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