Death arrived in a cardigan with mis-matched buttons,
she put her shopping down and was very grateful
for the cup of tea I made, she sipped, little finger sticking out,
I offered her some cake and she cut it with a little silver scythe.
Death told me not to worry, there was no rush today,
her hairdressing appointment wasn't until two,
I think she was lonely and just wanted to chat
so I talked about the weather and this and that.
Death pulled a pair of half glasses from her handbag
and perched them on the end of her nose,
licked the end of a pencil, crossed off my name
in her little black book and then gave me a look.
She chatted some more, how proud she was of her son
who was off at university getting a good education,
then she told me that my heart had stopped some minutes before
I nodded, then co-operatively sank to the floor.