I sing to my beloved tree while inside the house my husband stews, cracks his knuckles, threatens to run away with the philodendron

You are milky, willow, each limb a weeping, silvery filament. Tenderest tree, nasturtiums gasp in the wake of your fluttering, open their peppery petals. Sunflowers bow to your grace. Curled up and nestled under the droop of your slender branches, I inhale the elegance of your sweeping light green canopy, soak in your lacy, sweet shade, fall into dreams that rise like silk bubbles, taste of spun sugar melting on my outstretched, wanting tongue. Soon, I’ll flap my wings and fly. My shadowy water-lover, what treasures shall I bring back for you? My graceful giant, do you love me, too?