Disaster North
R.C. Blenis
April 17, 2026
A Cascading, it is
- By Steve Wilson
- Stacy Nigliazzo and Jenna Le
- Poems
- 4 Comments
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Steve Wilson’s poetry has appeared in journals and anthologies nationwide, as well as in six collections, the most recent entitled Complicity (Finishing Line Press). He lives in San Marcos, TX, and teaches in the MFA program at Texas State University.
About the Poem
“Employing the triolet form, the poem considers the mysterious movement of an aging mind as memories fragment and sometimes disappear. I have had to watch this loss occur in my father over the past several years, and poetry–particularly formal poetry–offers a place where some structure and comfort can be discovered. My father passed away in late September.”
Comments
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4 thoughts on “A Cascading, it is”
It’s so painful to watch a beloved parent lose themselves to their aging brain. Beautifully and succinctly spoken poetry. May his memory be a blessing.
I guess I am odd but I don’t cotton to poems (or other writings) that show the failings (usually citing embarrassing incidents) of parents in decline. Why not say something about how great he was when things were better for him? I hear this story told repeatedly, in one form or another, although usually it is women telling the story of their almost dead fathers. Could it be they are getting back at them? Who needs it over and over again?
Outstanding poem! You really are brought into the feelings about disabled parents by choice, sparse words.
A great poem, deeply touching, spare, clear and widely resonant. Thank you for this memento of your father and of the infinite cruelty and loss that dementia takes.