my dad

my dad grew stagnant at night
like a nightmare frozen in the sky
didn’t seem like what he touched was his
didn’t seem like what touched him held
he couldn’t get us through the short weeds
then it seemed like he turned away and stopped
and then he disappeared
just disappeared

~kat

NaPoWriMo2023 Day 3 Challenge: Find a shortish poem that you like, and rewrite each line, replacing each word (or as many words as you can) with words that mean the opposite.

The poem below, set in opposite, was particularly poignant for me when I think about my father, who was tormented by untreated mental illness…and his ultimate suicide.

My Mama moved among the days

Lucille Clifton – 1936-2010

My Mama moved among the days
like a dreamwalker in a field;
seemed like what she touched was hers
seemed like what touched her couldn’t hold,
she got us almost through the high grass
then seemed like she turned around and ran
right back in
right back on in