Tag: poets

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