An ornamental plum tree
by our bedroom window
pink primavera blossom tree
full of buds but still leafless
on this early day of March.

It’s our morning tree
it’s our late night tree
it’s our window tree
never a curtain drawn
between our existences.

We’ve seen you, tree
full in sunny rays.
And tree, you’ve seen us
loving and laughing
and calm and asleep.

We’ve seen you, tree
tossed about in outer storms.
And tree, you’ve seen us
in trauma and in inner storms
and in sorrow and awake.

One azure coolish morning
on dark silhouette branches
some pink breasted bullfinches
perching and greeting.
A new hopeful morning.