at eighteen

we lift anchor
at some point, jump
out of the nest,
set sail.
we might have small
clues tucked
away in our pockets,
but we really
don't know how,
or where,
or what to do. we
just know that it's
time to cut
the strings
and move on to whatever
lies ahead,
but always coming home
for a warm
hug, a hot meal.