Sunday, August 21, 2016

THE GRIM REAPER





Something is waiting for me.
Outside my front door.
I can sense its presence.
Can it be death?
Am I ready for it?
No one can be ready.
It comes for us when
we are the least prepared.
If I shut the door,
will it go away?
It’s moving closer to the house,
smacking repeatedly against the window.
Bang.
Bang.
I peek out.
A branch from the tree
is waving in the breeze.
This time I was lucky.
What about the next time?
I better be ready.