Ever since we ended our 36-hour blog vigil for Brett Favre's career, you guys have been irritable. Through your text messages, emails and postcards, you've indicated a thirst for more Favre tributes. Fortunately, a Hashmarkian named Ben Brigham sat down and wrote a poem about our beloved No. 4.
Thanks to the Hashmarks Arts and Letters Foundation for making Brigham's dream a reality. I now give you "Ode to Brett."
Brett, O Brett
Where for art thou Brett?
Surely time is not nigh
For you to leave us just yet!
Where for art thou
Number Four?
Hast thou sailed away
From Wisconsin's cold shore?
I have seen thy tears falling
Like rain upon the sod
Anointing the snowy loam
Where thy feet hath toiled and trod
The ground opens wide
Receiving tears of thy weeping
The frozen tundra drinketh them
Consumes for its keeping
My heart hath drained empty
Hollow...lonely...it doth sadden
Shall thy twilight be lived speaking forth thy word
With Michaels, Berman, Collinsworth and Madden?
My soul doth thirst within me
Hopeless...no tomorrow
As I grieve thy fate
...'tis taken by sorrow
Wait...is it thou
Coming over hill yonder?
No...just a wisp of thy memory
To tease me...to ponder
Thy farewell rings brazen
Upon my heart's shield
As heartache remembers
Thy courage on Lambeau Field
(Goodbye, my friend. I will miss you. See you in '09 when you come out of retirement and lead the Pack to Super Bowl glory)
Ben, we're forever grateful and somewhat violated by this touching piece.
