Tidy Twigs

I wrote this some time ago after my son left home to go to Uni.

New sunrays weave; I join the avian song
yet apprehension dawns — my chick has grown.
You fluttered restless wings, then squawked ‘so long’
abandoning our nest — my fledgling’s flown.

Bereft, I stare at every cranny filled
with dying leaves, once placed with expertise.
Time’s fingers seem to linger. I rebuild
my life, extend stiff wings, explore new trees.

Recall my chirruped warnings that you glide
above the stormy clouds. I’ll prune this nest
then tidy twigs, repress those fears I hide.
So preen your feathers, zoom the sky with zest.

I’ll cluck around my brood in reverie,
’til you swoop home, to roost awhile with me.

© capricorn 2023
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Oh I just love this, so beautifully written, perfectly expressing the huge hole pulling you down to forlorn empty spaces when the core of your existance has flown. I remember the feeling so clearly. Sue.


Even though we know it’s coming we still feel the shock when they leave. The wrench so well expressed here.

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