The day came you woke a wife and went to bed a widow, your grief a lead curtain pulling shut against the sun.
If I climb, plant flowers, will you allow the rain?
Let lonely clouds wander. Let rain come. Spring also.
Your grandchildren will bear armfuls of daffodils, laughing—
Felicia Sanzari Chernesky is a longtime editor, slowly publishing poet, and picture books author. In 2018 she moved away from the masthead to work with people who want to share their stories, ideas, and poems in print. Her poetry received a 2020 Allen Ginsberg Poetry Awards honorable mention. Her short fiction was nominated for a 2021 Pushcart and Best Microfiction. She lives with her family in Flemington, New Jersey. Find her online at feliciachernesky.com.
I thought the first line of this poem was very thoughtful, how situations change just like that in a day, you have one title on in the morning and by the evening things have completely changed for the woman. I also liked the curtain of lead which really gives you the feeling of grief shutting out the sun so well.
Thank you for your thoughtful response to my story. I tried hard to encapsulate the immediate change and sense of isolation that accompanies a sudden visit by grief.
Last week, my sister woke a wife and went to be a widow, very unexpectedly. A very common, almost normal. occurrence. Your words feel very personal, but have universal impact. I wish I’d written them
Thank you for sharing your story and response to mine. It is heartbreaking to watch a loved one suffer great loss. We want to offer comfort and yet we know that each of us must go through grief on our own and in our own way. I hope your sister finds comfort during such a difficult time.
Beautifully poignant.
Thank you for your kind words!
This is a wonderfully written
Thank you!
Poignant and powerful. Combines a sense of profound grief and the promise of renewal as I read it. Superb.
Thank you so much!