Parents have long shadows, longer
than those of other family,
friends, teachers, teenage idols.
They spread wider in the morning,
protecting from the rising heat.
Deeper than the static shadows
of home, they follow where you go.
Growing up is trying to detach
them  and bear the sunlight alone,
creating your own bold shadows.
But your parents' shadows lengthen
again in the evening, helping
to lead you back when you want to return.