posted by Fred MacKenzie at 7/21/2006 01:41:00 PM
This is a sestina. It doesn't use rhyme; instead, it has six keywords essential to the poem's structure. The poem's 39 lines - six 6-line stanzas followed by a 3-line tornada - all end with one of the keywords; in the tornada, there are two keywords in each line, one of them at the end and the other somewhere in the middle. There is a prescribed order for the keywords in a sestina, and you may notice that each one eventually appears in each line of a stanza.
My Father’s Son
When I was born there was plenty of time
for you to avoid me and go on with your life.
You could not see me when you looked in the mirror
because you lived as you were taught in the past.
Children were a bother who had no worth.
But I loved, and was lost in the glare of your reflection.
As I grew I saw the dimming of your reflection
and my admiration lessened with the passing of time.
It was obvious I had very little worth
because you had yours and I had my life.
Childish love was a thing of the past.
I could not see you when I looked in the mirror.
Who did you see when I looked in the mirror?
Was it yourself, or someone else's reflection?
The screaming and fights are now in the past
but healing these wounds takes time.
I have wasted many days of my life
waiting for you to show me that I do have worth.
As I matured I discovered the true meaning of worth.
It is what I see when I look in the mirror
and does not have to be given to me by others in my life.
I can find value in my own reflection.
This knowledge has been within me all this time
but I could not see it in the dark days of my life.
Now I must reconsider my actions of the past.
Did I ever try to show you that you had worth?
So many wasted days and now so little time
for me to repair the crack I find in my mirror.
You are not the monster I used to see in your reflection
but a kind and loving role model in my life.
You did not know how to express love in your life
because you lived as you were taught in the past.
Again I love, and am lost in the glare of your reflection.
Yet, I am unable to express to you the value of your worth
as I stand here alone looking at you in the mirror.
After all, I have been my father's son all this time.
There comes a time in every man's life
when he looks in the mirror of his past
to see the worth of his reflection.
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WDavid,
Ruth,
Friday, July 21, 2006
My Father's Son
2 Comments:
Fred...I'm surprised no one has commented on this yet. I've read this poem of yours before someplace...maybe it's in our family book. It's very touching and, if you'll pardon me borrowing one of your key words, reflective. You and Dad always seemed to be at each other's throats as we were growing up and it could not have been easy for you...or him. I'm happy that as we all aged, we mellowed and perhaps grew a bit wiser. I believe we've come to appreciate and love each other so much more.
By
WDavid, at 7/25/2006 04:04:00 PM
I didn't comment earlier because I felt too close to the events and because I wanted to see what others outside the family might say.
By
Ruth, at 7/25/2006 05:12:00 PM
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