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.