Monday, 3 March 2014

Date With Death

Lying in wait for death -
 I sprang out, a little precipitately,
And rather too soon. 
I tried to look 
Young, fit 
And nonchalant. 
Death, un-phased, (For he's seen everything: Let's face it.)
Tipped his hat,
And ventured a cheery, "Good Morning"
 Which, frankly, I found a little off-putting:
Disrespectful, even. 
" Am I too early?" I enquire,
Unconsciously imitating a granny,
At the bus-stop, with her Bus Pass. 
"And, If so, do you mind if I come back
Death put aside his scythe
Plumped down on a handily placed
Wrought Iron Bench,
And sighed. 
 "I'd very much appreciate it," he said,
 (His voice! Quiet, melodious -
I know! So unexpected!) 
"If you would walk out with me today-
 I have an occasional longing for a human face 
 That isn't quite so ... .
 (In deference to the dearly departing,
 He left the sentence hanging in the air.)
Up for anything, me, 
 I look him in the sockets 
And acquiesce.
" MacDonalds?" He grins, holding out a sleeve. 
Tucking it under my arm,
I step out:

 Our first date!

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