On The Coldest Of Nights Poem by Louise Marie DelSanto

On the coldest of nights
I hear a loud knock
echoing from the breezeway
I do not want to answer.

I am not prepared
to see who is knocking.
And I fall back to sleep
It is my father asking me
to open the door in my dream

I am frightened, but I
run to open the back door
and let him come in,
a gust of wind trailing behind

I see my father
robust and rugged
with most of his thoughts
clear for me to see
and instead of rough words,
he is smiling at me

I ask him to come in
and I sit beside him
His clear hazel eyes
seem smooth like glass
eyes into my eyes

Finally I feel
what every daughter wants.
I feel what might have been
had he just told me he loved me.