Walking through the park
Hand in hand
Your mother smiling down at you
And on occasion looking up
At me
She must have thought I was a waste
Of time lived away
Of money spent
But you held on to me tightly
With your hand
You tiny, sweaty hand
You didn't want to let go
It wasn't your fault
When my hand slipped from yours
Anger lit your mother's eyes
You were crying
Jumping up and down
Trying to reach my hand
But I had already begun
Flying up
Drifting away from your sweaty clutch
Watching you get smaller
Morphing slowly into an ant
The air had been warm
When I was anchored by you
But now it was cold
I would shiver if I could
At first it was terrifying
The feeling of going up and up
No end
No finishing line to be reached
For a second I almost missed
My tiny, sweaty anchor
But it was always clear to me
The fact I wasn't wanted
It had shown in your mother's eyes
A fire fueled by annoyance
More than anything else
And it became clear to me
The day you let me go
Was the day you set me free
And since you have done that
I will remember you
Until this freedom becomes the end of me
