If grief were a color, it would be blue like your eyes,
that lit up when you smiled, the ones just like mine

Or, perhaps, it would be yellow, like the sun in the sky,
that you shine on my back, so I know you’re close by

And, if grief were a song, it would be loud and off key,
it would sing the wrong lyrics, like you sang for me

It would tell stories and jokes, full of laughter and light,
I’d have no choice but to listen, to feel and to cry

And, if grief were an object, it’d be your slippers I wear,
or, your brush that’d I’d borrow, to comb through my hair

If grief were outside, it would hide in the trees,
so I know that you’re with me, when you blow in the breeze

And, if grief came inside, it would ask for some tea,
with milk and some honey, and two tea bags, please!

Or, perhaps, it would go, straight to my freezer,
To finish the container, of your mint chocolate Breyers

But, when grief came to me, I could only drop to my knees,
In reverence and awe, in exasperated pleas

“I don’t want you here,” I started to say,
“Please leave my home, please go away.”

But, grief only came closer, and opened my eyes,
“Can’t you see that you’re lucky, that I’m here with you inside?”

Grief wrapped its arms around me, and gave me a hug,
“For you can only know me, if first, you knew love.” 

For Dad, my angel, 6/13/1944-10/31/2021