“one red mulberry”


a small sickly tree in the little backyard of my solo house

appears to disappear with the mood of my window’s haze

it sheds its extravagant blooms before the winter’s peak

the cold hasn’t left yet

in fact it’s in high season these days


i pretend this tiny ailing escort shelters red mulberries

for they promise to re-bleed the ice on our memories

i haven’t been home in too long of a time i want you to know

once you last stepped out life in me bluntly refused to grow

this year my eyes’ ill companion kept one of its fruits

it is lonely and hangs at the end of a half-broken twig

utterly fragile at the mercy of even the gentlest blow

it awaits one more blazed tear drop from me to let go

One Red Mulberry

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

© hülya n. yılmaz, February 20, 2015

A poem contribution to the March 2015 issue of The Year of the Poet, a monthly book series published by Inner Child Press, Ltd.

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