first go's

Here's the sonnet version:

The graveyard rasp, looked to the source.
Bloodshot eyes opened, and he asked from bed,
"Your shift again already, nurse?" "Of course."
"I used to have a story, but--" he said.

"No audience. My wife, with raven hair,
My everything, then disappeared, was gone.
Detective I hired, but found her nowhere.
This blackhaired beauty, too, abandoned me.

If only I could see her 'gain tonight.
There she is! Now behind you, I can see
Through you, a ghost transparent, is her light."
"I'm here," I said. He closed his eyes, now free.

I cried, and held and squeezed my husband's hand
And watched as he slipped from my life again.

And the prose version:

A graveyard rasp, and his eyes opened. "Your shift again already, nurse?"

I smiled: "Of course, honey."

"I used to have a story, but...” Eyes lost. “Now, no audience."

"Tell me."

"My wife was my everything. Then she was gone. I hired a detective. Even she, too, vanished. If only I could see my life again.”

Eyes cleared.

"There she is! Behind you… I can see through you. A ghost transparent. She--"

"I'm here," I said.

He closed his eyes, now free.

I cried, and held and squeezed my husband's hand and watched as he slipped from my life again.

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I have a title I absolutely hate: Portrait of the Artist as a Dying Old Man
Yuck... I really need to change it.

I'm not happy with either version, either (though I'm closer to satisfaction with the sonnet, but that's 109 words)... if I had 201 words, I think I could have nailed this... I'll need to put it away for a while and see if I can do something with that prose version (it's at exactly 101)...

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UPDATE: I'm thinking about "CJD" as a title... cryptic, but also the acronym for a type of Alzheimer's-like dementia...