MOVE

Nephew and Niece have moved.

Hugged teachers and friends they’ve loved and counted on; promising to visit soon.

Whispered a parting wish to the midnight star fixed high above their chimney.

Closed doors on vacant bedrooms.

Watched streets they crossed each morning and noon fade into Interstate.

Nephew and Niece have moved.

Waved goodbye to static, stepping into opportunity.

Tomorrow is a New Day: their first day of school.

Teachers. Friends. Frenemies. Knowledge. Worries. Accolades. Challenges. Joys. Heartaches. Insecurities. Judgments. Failures. Successes. Memories.

Await.

New. Fresh. Exciting.

Terrifying.

Nephew and Niece are anxious.

Aunt is envious.

Oh, to ditch expectations!

To leap forward with zero tally marks in the strikes-against column.

To wonder what might appear around each unfamiliar corner.

To seize the sparkle rather than buckle from the certain.

To meet Brother and Sister Stranger, speculating which eyes and voice might tell a tale that melds with your own to script a whole new story.

Nephew and Niece, tomorrow is a New Day.   

One of many to come in your blessed young lives.

I have sharpened my pencils.

                                                                                                       
Ironed my blouse and polished my boots.

I, too, shall greet

New Day

ditching expectations,

seeking the Unknown.

Alive.

  
Unfettered.

Wake up!

Time

to

Move.

QUING Hereby Decrees:  The child that remains must remember.