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Wisdoms freshly caught
spill from the mouths of babes.

They reinvent you, wear you down
and suddenly you’re cooing,
spouting baby talk and loving it
until they look at you quizzically
with a “what planet are you from”
questioning.

You realize they have advanced,
leaving you standing empty armed
while they continue their unceasing quest
for something.  Those gawky teens,
all gangling limbs and outré observations,
those aliens who inhale food and are always hungry.

These young men and women  bright and strong,
graduating,  going off to college.
Again we’re empty-armed. Feathers fluffed, we cluck
and blink eye mist into oblivion
as we nudge them from the nest
to try their wings.

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