The lodger

Death moved in with me some years ago
and will not leave.
It pays its rent in ticking clocks,
I hear it sigh in squeaking floors and howling wind,
and dust reminds me it is here to stay.

It sits opposite me at breakfast in a silent grumpy mood.

I put a brochure of a cruise on its plate today,
hoping it will take the hint
and pack its stuff, and go away.



Comments on: "The lodger" (6)

  1. Death may go on a cruise, but sends a daily email.

  2. nettie Schroders. said:

    Ina mooi omschreven.
    Ik hoop voor je dat het op reis gaat.
    Maar de tijd zal het nodig hebben om te gaan, het zal nooit meer worden als eerst.
    Ik hoop dat het milder voor je wordt.
    Sterkte er mee.Lieve gr Nettie

  3. This is as good a poem as you’ve written, Ina

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