Today I write a poem for you, Papa.
Not a sad poem, for we are finished with sadness,
you and I. No more wheelchairs. The tremors
have ceased, spasms calmed on a cloud . . . .
–excerpt from “Remembrance” in Hanging like Hope on the Equinox by Donna Pucciani (virtual artists collective, Chicago 2013). First published in Poetry East.
This poem is posted today in memory of my father, Francis Pucciani, who suffered from Parkinson’s disease for many years and died on July 1, 2001.