A brilliant mind is a terrible
sight as it slowly fades away.
This man who once knew it all,
who taught me ev’rything
about love and life,
can no longer
remember
his name…
DAD.
(A nonet is composed of nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the next eight, and so on. The final line consists of a single syllable. This gives the overall appearance that the poem is disappearing as it progresses. This one is very close to my heart, and while I started writing it with my late Uncle David in mind, it became a lot closer to home than I intended, as my father has been struggling with memory loss issues the past year or so as well.)
Haunting and beautiful and sad.
Thank you so much. I haven’t shared this one with my dad just yet. I want to, but I don’t want to hurt or upset him, you know?
Yes … tough call. I don’t know that I’d share it. But you know your own relationship. Best wishes.