Death is a dark tune
That arrives on a dark day
When nothing is going your way
And the storms break through
Your perfectly arranged world
Rattle your windows,
And chill you to the bone.
If you should come suddenly
There won't be hot tea brewing
Or clean towels laid out just for you
I might be in the middle
Of a lengthly novel
Forgive me if I'm brusque then
I hate interruptions.
It's nothing personal
Just give me some time
To compose myself,
Look around once more:
It may seem humble to you
But remember nobody
Has made any assurances
About what's coming next
I want to remember
How this feels.
It may be that
I could find my way
Around your dark paths
Maybe stumble a little;
But pick up again,
Go on having my predictable
Thoughts, make myself
Another cozy place, settle down
We're all just searching
For a little peace anyway,
Aren't we?
You really should
Get with me on this.
I love the conversational tone you have taken with Death. There is something about the attitude that reminds me of Emily Dickinson. A practical take on one of life's few certainties.
ReplyDeleteThe idea of having to drop everything and just leave on demand fills me with horror, it offends my sense of order. Good work H
ReplyDelete