Today is Father's Day, but Father's had
His day: it might have been in forty-nine
When his tenacious running won the game;
Or fifty-one when he became a dad;
That big promotion he wanted so bad;
The free trip from the contest that he won;
His children's looks of rapture when he swung
Them 'round in circles, laughing, giddy, glad.

I took him out to lunch on Friday last,
But he was out to lunch: his eyes empty
Much of the time.  His appetite was good
But memory was bad: the recent past
Left no impression - every question three
Times answered, still, a blank.  My heart is wood.