The eyes saw all, but look surprised
to see the reaper in this early hour.
The sunset not quite ready for the day
is mean enough to hold back on the dusty beams
that always were his reason to arise.
The reaper hesitates to make the crucial gesture.
There is still time for some negotiations,
so it seems. What is discussed, nobody knows,
but in the end, the curtains close.
“He looks surprised,“ his feeble grandson says
the next day when the mourners come
to shed some tears.
The reaper, standing in the corner, smiles.
The deal is done.
He will not come to get this child, not
for a hundred years.