Death was not an angel
With dark and spindly wings
And charcoal fabric- a shadowy face

It's eyes did not glow red
When it trotted through the door
It's short claws clicked,dull, against the linoleum

Death let me take my time
Watched me hang my apron
let me rinse my hands before it led me out the door

We walked down the street together
Heel to heel under the sun
It even licked my fingers-- brushed against my legs

We took the subway, not a chariot
And got off together at the second stop
A few people came with us, petting a silent Death

Death watched us, knowingly
Then padded for the subway
And even after we'd reached our final destination
Death did not stay with us