Tidal Basin Review, Summer 2011

Page 84

LEAVING US Randy Parker Our son molted like a field cricket, climbing out of juvenile exoskeletons and leaving them in piles behind the bathroom door. He became ever more elusive, the one chirping somewhere within our walls but nowhere to be found. And then he crept away, chirring far afield, far afield, far afield, stridulating effortlessly with cellular wings.