Such a long road to walk for such short legs,
We’d stop to read the numbers on the doors;
Testing you on your counting as we strolled,
My big hand wrapped completely around yours.
We’d play the games that spring up at such times:
‘Twenty Questions!’, ‘I-Spy’ or we’d chat
About the things we’d do once school was done,
About your thoughts on life: on this or that.
But now, your hand’s at least as big as mine,
And you are taller by an inch or two.
So, soon you’ll leave to start another life
And part of mine will finish when you do.