Letting Go

You let me go and I went.

I tested, gingerly,
The earth's bumps and inclinations,
I broke in my new shoes, held my arms
Close to my sides for better balance.

I went further and further, and
Didn't have to think of you much:
I knew that your shadow was never
Far from mine. If I turned, you were there.

One day I went too far and stayed.
You must have felt a heart arrest
When you couldn't follow, a collapse
Of a world tenderly nursed for years.

From then on, an ocean of
Separation kept me from you
And only sent me back
For insufficient seasonal visits.

Every year we tried our ancient roles
Awkwardly; every time I left
Determined that surely next time
We'll do it more successfully.

And then it was you who went
And me who had to let you go.
Difficult, that.
A symmetrical, eye-opening blow.