Since you died, the earth turned green
For my father
It’s May again, the grave is green and healed,
The cemetery trees are filled with birdsong,
And Stefano shows me the cormorants
Above the Mill Pond, carrying
Branches in their beaks to their island nests.
Mom, Loredana, and the priest sang
On your birthday. They poured wine
On your grave and around the cross,
And now I wonder if it’s peaceful
Where you are, if you hear the noise of time.
You loved birds. Today Stefano took me
And Alisa to his secret place, where
Great Herons have set up their nests: they look
Like white candles in the trees. Candles
With wings: like us driving home in the night
This year, with lit Easter candles in our hands.
Carmen Bugan 
Heartfelt and moving. Your Dad now lives in readers’ hearts.
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I loved your poem. I mourn the loss of my husband. But each year, the grass does turn green. Thank you for your comfort.
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