I've Been Thinking About the Future Lately

Death's unwanted guest,
brisk and bright, persistent
to receive eternity's embrace
in sweetest serenity.

I remember her sifting
homesick though lucent
photographs stacked
in a rustic cedar cigar box,
emanating smells of stale
smoke and morose memories.

She'd stare intently, then
look back, as if these
keepsakes were
treasures to hide.

Then came her first knock
at death's door.

Death accepts no visitors,
she freely comes and
sweeps all souls of their
feet - eyes wide and shut.

As she waited, her soft
pale complexion turned a
violent shade of contempt.

"Entitlement",
she sighs.

Photographs lay at her feet,
the placid face of her
past-father glaring, wondering,
who lies before him
locking eyes wide,
then shut.