wining poem

I am Building a Brace

by Joe Cottonwood

I’m a carpenter. There’s a mindfulness of craft—of any manual labor, actually—if you open yourself to it.

I am building a brace for the front porch

of my brother who is on the other side

of that door listening with headphones

to a recording of Chinese poetry

(in Mandarin, which he understands)

while he is dying, slowly,

brain cell by brilliant brain cell

in that rocking chair

whose joints are creaking,

coming undone.

He no longer remembers his phone number

or how to count change at the grocery store.

He is in denial of any problem

but the crack in the porch grows wider

millimeter by millimeter

so out here in the rain

I set four-by-fours upright as posts,

then I jerk four-by-eights as beams

     lifting on my shoulder

     held by my hands     transferred through my spine

     pushing with my legs

     anchored by my feet

as the useless joists of the deck

drop termite shit onto my eyebrows

like taunts of children:

nya nya you can’t fix this.

But I can brace it for a while.

Long enough, at least

for my brother to forget ten languages.

I will repair that rocking chair.

I will change his sheets,

install grab bars in the shower

because he’s my brother.

I won’t let his porch collapse

out here in the rain.

I simply won’t.

  This is a wining entry of Spirit First Meditation Poetry Contest 2016. I like it. it is taken from http://spiritfirst.blogspot.in/.