Death, your long-time acquaintance
who has called often
to remind you of his presence,
has kept you waiting this final time
when word has come that the trip is on.
He who has approached so boldly before,
only to have his orders revoked,
seems to have reneged
now the official edict has come
and moves with measured pace at a distance,
Such quaint courtesy.
Those miscreants, fear and doubt,
who are sometimes seen with him,
have lost their way
and are not attendant at this sacredness,
for you are ready,
and all is peacefulness
You have rid yourself of
all that would impede or slow the travel.
It is simply a matter of turning out the light
and leaving the house, a shell abandoned.
God-speed thee, traveller-friend.

Grief and Loss