Sunday, March 19, 2017

A Eulogy for my Father

This relationship is dead;
been dying for some time now,
a few words may be in order:

What happens when a father blocks his son,
his light begotten?
And the sun shifts, leaving me
alone in darkness?
Alone with poisonous nostalgia,
false memories of how things used to be.
I lost my umbrella years ago,
sank a foot deeper,
became a father myself,
perhaps my own father.
Am I robbed of a childhood?
When all I can remember is
thunder and rain and tears?

My sun shifted.
My light offensive to him.
He preferred solitude and shadows
And Fergus rules the shadows of the wood.
How can I inherit his sun,
when he buried himself alive,
clutching that orb of light
tightly to his chest?
Jedes Licht ist nicht die Sonne
And I will walk in my own light.

1 comment:

Adrian Neibauer, EdD said...

This is a poem where I am experimenting with many different things. I am playing around with sun versus son. I am debating if I need more line breaks, especially in the second stanza. Finally, I am taking a risk with some allusion; one to Yeats and another to Diana Der-Hovanessian's poem: Shifting the Sun (hence my play on the words sun and son). I appreciate any feedback you leave. Thanks!