When death comes

 When death comes

When death comes

Let him leave the sickle behind

And wear no black sack

Let him come 

Like the elderly neighbour

Shuffling kindly to your side

Let him steal

Through the window

While the evening rays bath

Your couch

Let him hold out  

A soft craggy hand

And entice you with the flutter of wings

Let him ask you 

Gently whether you paid your taxes

Whether you told your people

Then let him lead 

You as noiselessly as he came

To the great beyond