Death’s ever present
in this tiny town
placards go up,
placards come down
Death greets a someone
just coming alive
Death always sidled
at the old man’s side
church bells toll,
the old man groans
Death refuses
to leave him alone
but the old man spurns
such grave company
holding tight to the life
that used to be
each day seems fraught
with little but woe
though Death tries to coax, he refuses to go
rejecting the notion of beginnings and ends
exhausting the family,
ne’er making amends
Death asks the old man, what’s there to fear
but the old man screams, away from here!
my body’s broken,
my mind’s disarranged
yet from this life
I seek no change
but Death is as patient
as the old man is stubborn
kept busy that day
holding hands with a newborn
Death’s ever present
in this tiny town
another procession
slowly marches along
Sitting beside the old man
in the shade
Death points bony fingers
to the slow, sad parade
everyone’s life
must come to an end
even yours,
my dear, old, obstinate friend
i’m no friend of yours,
cries the frightened, old man
swatting away
Death’s ice cold hand
with a pain-filled shriek
he lifts from his seat
i wish no more
that you and i meet
i’m afraid that can’t be, Death whispers with laughter
i have work across town, but i’ll return soon after
don’t rush, says the old man, for i’m in no hurry
and grabbing his canes, shuffles off in a scurry
I’ve always found those most reluctant to go
Death comments to no one, for no one can know,
are those who live life
for none but themselves
with thoughts now of heaven,
but destined for hell
Death’s measured footsteps move slowly away
the old man’s denial
won out for the day
but Death will be back
by the old man’s side
for the end is the end
and from Death he can’t hide
Dog-eared Stories by anne celano frohna 