Daughter's Grief Poem by Louise Marie DelSanto

Grief is in my backyard
where the weeds grow
high and tangled as it
has before but not without
the burnt-out flowers, the
deadheads of roses,
Fifty two years
I knew my father
The scarlet roses are
blooming and its bloom
is fully open and extends
to the arborvitae that stands
before it, green as ever before
And the sorrow I feel is strong
though I thought the ache would
be like the loss of my Summer
Yesterday my mother asked me
if I remember how my fathers
skin felt, how his hands, weathered
and old, gripped at my waist when
I stood him up, how he smelled after
I bathed his body fragrant
I wanted to go where
he was buried and smell
the freshness of rain, see new grass
growing, and forget sorrow.