It is the worst fear with which a parent contends: outliving one's children. The stability of trees in the winds of grief reveals a mother's negotiations with life going forward in the wake of such loss. "I need to examine the crooks of trees / How they allow a change of direction," admits Phyllis Carito, finding in the resilience of trees a metaphor capable of providing something like succor, something like Frost's "momentary stay against confusion." From the stuff of grief, Carito creates affecting poems that are monuments, like trees planted in the beloved's honor, allowing her to "just hold on // first to his fragile body / and then to every memory . . ."

--John Hoppenthaler, author of Domestic Garden

Some may become silent when loss and grief take over and "deflate the heart", but Phyllis Carito is eloquent here in The stability of trees in the winds of grief. Trees, their roots, branches, leaves, twigs inspire and guide her poetic exploration of "waiting for the weight of grief to lift." Readers, too, will be uplifted in this fine, new collection by a strong woman and poet.

--Sandy Longley, author of Navigating the Waters