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Holding Hands-Haibun
by Ronald A PavellasWhat is a word or phrase for the sensation arising from observing a child holding a parent’s hand while walking? Nostalgia? Wistfulness? Yearning?
I remember son Alex holding my hand, comfortably, unconsciously, until around age six or seven.
It was a clear morning in Oakland, in the hills where we then lived, walking toward a neighborhood shopping area. He seemed suddenly to be conscious of his hand in mine. He removed it, replaced it, removed it again within a few seconds of time, never to so take my hand again.
When shall a child know
He is a separate being
O painful farewell 05/24/2017 Posted on 05/24/2017
Copyright © 2024 Ronald A Pavellas
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 05/25/17 at 11:57 AM Sad and lovely. Yes, ultimately we are all separate beings and still God gave us hands for such time as they need be linked to beings which matter most to us. |
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