The Old Man

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

-Dylan Thomas



We have had the honor of spending the last 2 months in Tucson, Arizona with our father, Bernie Bortnick, a greater man than any of his progeny could ever be. He is struggling with an opponent that no man can defeat. How lucky we are to have has this precious time with him.
But the wind is in the shoulder of our sails and we can no longer delay our departure, though our eyes are clouded with tears.


Farewell Dad, we hope to see you again soon.