My husband gives me an A for last night's supper, an incomplete for my ironing, a B plus in bed. My son says I am average, an average mother, but if I put my mind to it I could improve. My daughter believes in Pass/Fail and tells me I pass. Wait 'til they learn I'm dropping out.
To A Daughter Leaving Home
- by Linda Pastan52
When I taught you at eight to ride a bicycle, loping along beside you as you wobbled away on two round wheels, my own mouth rounding in surprise when you pulled ahead down the curved path of the park, I kept waiting for the thud of your crash as I sprinted to catch up, while you grew smaller, more breakable with distance, pumping, pumping for your life, screaming with laughter, the hair flapping behind you like a handkerchief waving goodbye.
Poems by Linda Pastan, Linda Pastan's poems collection. Linda Pastan is a classical and famous poet (1932 - / New York / United States). Share all poems of Linda Pastan.