THE VISIT
Death came in and sat himself,
Adjusted his black tie.
"I could," he said, "arrange this thing
But, maybe -", then, a sigh.
"Maybe you could help me out.
This can be difficult.
There are many ways to do the job,
With, of course the same result."
"Gosh", I said, "you know the work.
I'm just an amateur.
And frankly, I'd be much relieved
If you'd - but I'm not sure.
If you'd just go away
And occupy yourself
With other people somewhere else.
Put my case up on a shelf."
"Aah yes.", he said, and touched his head,
"The concept isn't new.
Frequently I've heard this said
By many more than you.
But, see here, my reputation
Wouldn't do too well
If I'd let you off the hook -
What is that smell?"
"I'm cooking up spaghetti sauce",
I glanced back at the stove.
"I wonder -" and he raised a brow.
"Oh, there's plenty here of course.
Why don't you join me now.
With a smile he assented.
After a plate, quite impressed,
"You've a way", he commented,
"With well done sauce and pasta."
"That's OK", I said, "come by anytime.
As long", I said," as you push me down the roster."
"No problem," Death replied, "I'd hardly do away
With such good cooking, dinner was delicious."
I saw him off , he gave a wave.
My future seemed auspicious.
I'm ready now, these days,
With tomato sauce on simmer.
I much prefer a happy meal
To something somewhat grimmer.