(look closely at the photo, you can see one leg on the shell as a touching farewell)
You sheltered me while I grew. I had no choice but to slough you off like a skin too small. Crawling out wasn’t all that easy. I struggled, you know, I worked hard like the cicadas we watched from the porch swing on sultry August Sundays. Remember? We looked on as the hard shell of security that surrounded wet, transparent wings split down the middle. Singers of summer songs perched vulnerable on the sprawling oak tree until the moment came and with dry wings launched into life. I discovered my courage to fly, too, and we were companions no more.