My Father Is Not What He Used To Be

My octogenarian father can no more walk the mile His memory lurks behind his perpetual deceptive smile He has hidden us in a chasm so deep and cavernous, where no light ever does peep A wise gentleman once, now is a hapless child Easily pleased,angered,intimidated or beguiled He looks at old family albums like a kaleidoscope Amused by colors sans any warmth, cognizance or hope. He is elated when I sometimes go over ‘ABCs’ And the accuracy and irony of his words oft lacerates me. "K is for knowledge", he stealthily whispers "Never to amass, make sure always to disperse!" "D is for daughter, but friend who are you? Please stay for dinner, won’t you!” Written on 05/19/2016 for Brenda Chiri-Carroll's contest "A Father is"