I am a tree

You are a bird

you were made to fly

so fly away

now

while the sky is clear

uncluttered

except the breeze

I'll stay rooted

and heal

I am a tree

meant for holding nests

in boughs

and crooked elbows

my wounds are superficial

still

I wouldn't have you wait

to tend me

the worst that can happen

to me is

scars enfolding my bark

reminding me

but invisible

to birds

and the passing

of leaves

so

now soar

I know you can

circle

if you will

to confound the bats

and never look back

but keep your compass pointed

to warmer climes

and the chance

of rest

before the great migration begins

again

I'll stand steady

stretch my arms wide

and catch the next bird

that wants

to be held

in unthreatening arms

safe

from the wind

and the other colds

that don't always fit

with the season

for now I make do

with crows

or ravens

or rooks

I never know what

to call them

they are restless visitors these

never stopping to nest

needing no protection

or comfort

for they are the ones

who pick

at the bones

or take

from the trash

what they like

to feed their bellies

and make their feathers shine

which is all that black can do

when it comes to embellishment

or light

I am a tree

and you are a bird

you were made to fly

I will still stand

and will be here

when you return

it's not just the butterflies

that take

to the air

take care

you are a bird

and I am a tree.