A Good Day to Die

by Tim J. Brennan
About Poetry Forum
Third Place, October 2007
Judged by E. Ethelbert Miller


i)

September in Wisconsin

is like spent wood

burning; living near

the Chippewa river

where final letters are written,

hunger is fed its last supper

and breezes cross river water

as softly as a woman’s failing breath

at the bottom of her hour

(ii)

by Friday I want her

kneaded into rye,

set on a warm window sill

covered with a damp towel,

allowing her to rise

by morning

(iii)

by Sunday she couldn’t see

me anymore; it was raining

and I watched my words,

pale as newsprint,

running together;

being no longer useful,

I threw them away

(iv)

a blue carnation,

white chrysanthemums;

all relative, withering

in lieu of last rites