A Single Red Carnation

This poem is dedicated to my grandfather, who died on Wednesday, April 13, 2005. I was very close to him.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to go
To see you again before,
Your coffin was closed and I'd see your face,
But for in pictures, never more.

How selfish of me to be unsure.
It was a wake, and that is all.
But I'm glad that I went, in the end,
I got over my selfish wall.

You looked...at peace, to say the least.
Your face uncreased in dying.
But how sad it was to see you then,
Unwaking there...just lying.

We wrote little rhymes for you*
To better do our part.
We placed them in your suit jacket
So they'd be ever close to your heart.

I wish you could have heard the things
That everybody said.
Things you might have smiled at
Under the wreath of carnations, blood red.

I was upset to think that you'd
Be there for me no more.
It was worse the next-coming day
When they closed the coffin door.

The next day was the funeral
Those times you held me over your shoulders--
It was my chance to pay back the favour
I was one of the pallbearers.

And such, as my post, I received a token
To signify my station.
On my black shirt, next to my heart,
Was pinned a red carnation.

And now, after all the ceremonies,
You can go to Italy.
To be buried in your stony crypt
After you are seen by more family.

Now it's all done. Said and done.
I'm still left with deep frustration.
But aside from memories, I am left
With this single red carnation.

La famiglia Della Malva ha aprezzato la vostra partecipazione al suo dolore.
Sentitamente ringrazia.

* You can read the poems my cousins and I wrote in "From Grandchildren to a Grandfather." As the poem says, we put them in his jacket pocket and they'll stay there when he's buried.