Sonya Sones, author of the Los Angeles Times best-selling novel-in-verse, THE HUNCHBACK OF NEIMAN MARCUS (HarperCollins, 2011), will post a new poem on her blog (www.sonyasones.com/wp/whats-new/) every day for the next several weeks about how a mother feels when her child heads off to college. As a public service, we will post the poems in the Dispatch. Herewith, installment five.

Flying Our Daughter to College

I’m tucked into the middle seat
between Michael and Samantha,
who’s looking out the window at the clouds.

I cover her hand with mine
and ask her
how she’s doing.

She answers my question
with an eloquent smile,
then goes back to staring out the window.

But a few seconds later
her head drops down
onto my shoulder.

My hand flutters up
like a startled bird
to cradle her cheek.

We sit here together.
Wordless. Close.
Closer than we’ve ever been.

Her shoulders begin to quiver.
Her warm tears slip down my fingers,
anointing my wrist.

And when my own tears come,
it’s as if they’re gushing
directly from a crack in my heart’s dam.

I stroke her cheek,
kiss the top of her head,
wrap both arms around her.