All those
squiggly
worms
that I had to fetch
and
feed
him
It was typical
routine
natural
the way
it is supposed to be
He
left the nest
He flew and
I
was
so proud
They will tell you
“Birds don’t cry”
Do not believe them
Against the sun
his silhouette
He was so excited
his chest
pounding
he sang
such a song
When he came back
that morning
“Mama,
mama,
did you see,
did you see?”
And as he grew
stronger
bigger
and
became what
he was
meant to be
my job
was
completed
It is
the natural
course of things
but
I miss
him
so
The nest
is long gone
I moved on
to another tree
another
place
but
do hear him
from time to time
I know his song
even
saw
him
just a couple days ago
but stayed
a distance away,
you know
he does not
want
“Momma bird”
flying over
Is it
the natural
course
of things
to have
this
ache?
This yearning?
The tree shrouds me
and
I cloak
this
sorrow
in
my wings
The sorrow
mixes
with hope
like two hands
together
like two wings
that
have little in common
but
still allow me to fly
See that woman
there,
do
you see her
sitting
on the bench?
Yes
that one
She sits there often
by
herself
Some times she feeds me
and
I
look into her face
One time
I
jumped on the bench
right next to her
and
she said
she said
her voice trembling a bit:
“I know, I know…”