...my mother's life was a medical hell for the last two years of her life. the day she died was a good day for her. a harder day for the rest of my family, but a good day, depending on one's perspective...
This transported me. Your use of the senses is so evocative. I had to read over and over the third stanza:
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
It really touched me. Fantastic. Poignant. Totally charged.
What I wasn't too sure about was the title (why was it a good day? - I've probably missed something here, though). Simon Armitage - a British poet - said that a title must earn its place. I think yours links with the last line? Again - I'm sure I've missed something that someone else can clarify. x