Farewell by Martin Willitts Jr.

The rain is lifting, silent as a stranger, 

into the metallic-red evening sundown, 

above the heat wave, tacking north 

like a sailboat. The white sycamore 

waves its empty fall branches: farewell.

No one should have to die at a moment like this.

But they do. Cancer is a bomb dropped

from miles above; something rain cannot lift.

 

Ducks leave the brackish river for shore 

to rest on earth under the ferns.

This is not a day for someone to die,

but they do. Twilight still maintains 

a certain beauty. I spent all day watching

someone dying while the rain was dying, too.

Martin Willitts Jr has been in Night Garden Journal many times. He has over 20 chapbooks, and 10 full-length collections including forthcoming "The Uncertain Lover" (Dos Madras Press) and "News Comes From the Slow Country" (Aldrich Press).