For Mother In April


bittersweet sun, warm on my tongue
ascends on a world without you
I rise from fetal knees

to stand very still, to watch
worn, wooden shelter of songbird nectar
dance on your garden hook

grassy arms wave toward heaven
juniper limbs cup a bird, lost
in bends and folds of branches on sky

though my tear-brined heart will never forget
I can’t help being drawn by the sun
what lives on continues to burn