The Mulberry Tree

The Cedar Waxwings
take flight in early spring
from parts unknown
descending on my Mulberry tree
out back
near my bedroom door
feeding greedily on nectared berries
hanging in abundance.

You, my love, took flight
in the late autumn
of our lives
to find me.
Feed greedily now
on the sweetness
of my love
willingly offered.
Be nourished.
Be well.
But, unlike the tender
transient birds,
I beg of you
remain
on my branches.