Lynne Knight

PROLOGUE


While we slept, such heavy rain swept past
it shook the last roses loose. They lay
smashed on the deck this morning, their petals
scattered like big white tears. I shouldn't say
a thing so sentimental. But there they were.
And you, my father, so long dead, why
should I not expect to find you everywhere,
reminding me how little will be left--
vague ache in my own daughter's heart
as she sweeps the steps after rain whose mercy
is all in the coming, the coming again.

Selected Works

Poetry
A collection of poems on loss and renewal
French translations of the Snow Effects cycle by Nicole Courtet
Poems on love and loss
A study of betrayal in all its aspects
A cycle of poems on a mother’s descent into dementia
A cycle of poems on winter Impressionist paintings