Before it is time for me to leave there are people I want to see
for one last look, a hold of the hand, to carry in memory.
It’s autumn now, with leaves ablaze, they’re all busy night and day
preparing for winter. But I am not, for I am going away.
Departure is near, the road in sight, and I’m not sure where it will lead.
This place is home, and it’s all I’ve known; the future I cannot read.
So I’ll step out, with a certain doubt, and with curiosity.
But no regret; let fate be met. My spirit will be free.

-inspired by a text conversation with my oldest sister (“I’d like to visit with you before you fly to Vikingland.”)