Death's Meeting

i invited Death

i prepared a slice of
lamb's roasted meat
a glass of red wine
adjusted the light
dimming yellow,
into the saffron
of mellow ambiance
i signaled that He
shall now come
and sit on the Persian
pillow
i sit in front of Him
so we can talk
peacefully

Death is silent
looked at Time
and left me

The red wine never had
the touch of death

the meat is cold
and the light is
finally switched off

i rise from
the floor and
stand by the side
of the window

i see death again
rushing to the sea
disappearing like a
black cloud
upon a mountain top.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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