The Lessons of Death:  Part One

The bell chimes, announcing death

Calling one and all as witness

To behold a strangled neck

Marked as an example

For none to follow as lead

Lest they welcome death

With open arms, and bitterness

On their tongues and on their minds

Children run through the streets

In a race against their excitement

Squeezing through an anxious audience

Shoving their way up front

For their first, unhampered view

Of the freshly-dead as its

Puppet-like dance nears an end

The rope, straining with deadweight,

Barely glides back and forth now;

Reminding some of a ticking clock

Winding down and out of time

Faces in the crowd reflect hatred

Shock rounds others’ eyes

Cheers ride the group in waves

Awe sits on children’s visages

As they lick their penny candy

And enjoy the larger-than-life show,

Which introduces

Their innocent souls to death,

And label it as commonplace

Beneath his dark cloak,

Death winks at the children one by one

And motions for each to take his hand

Shyly, they each decline and run

Back to their mothers’ skirts

Where safety clings to their bones

And where they peep from around

The folds of material to confirm

That they imagined the strange,

Dark man, whose hand is out-stretched,

With invisible offerings

The children sigh as one –

A gesture which defies their years

And gives away their fears

As they realize their mothers’ skirts

Hold no safety from Death

He will have his way…one day…

He shall have his say

Sheila Roy - August 2006