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Fresh and sweet white mulberries which you liked.
At street corners, on big, round trays covered with white clothes
A longing for the childhood left behind in a distant land.
Not only a fruit but everything related to your presence.
Like mulberries, all fading and decaying...
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I enjoyed reading this. It's a lovely piece. The emotions come through really well. The only suggestion I could make would be that I'm not sure you need: 'which you liked' at the end of the first line. I think the rest of the poem explains this and it might be stronger without it, but that's just a personal opinion. Very well written.
