Leaving Again?

He’s leaving again,

My man child.

No longer holding my hand,

Forgetting the Legos stacked in his closet.

He’s on his own,

My man child.

Forgetting to check the knife,

Retelling the TSA tale to his father.

He’s on his own,

My man child.

Flying through the sky, then onto trains and into cars,

Recalling how he asked for this adventure.

My son, the boy.

My son, the fighter.

My son, the seeker.

My son, the Cadet.

My son, you’re never on your own, really,

Because you’re always

with me.