And there he stands, waiting to visit, the opposite of the Michelin Man, old dry boned Reaper Man. He looks through the windows on a dark winter’s night, when people are cozy by the warm fire light, not thinking of anything more then their comforts and pleasures, though Suzy has a cold and is wheezing loudly .. he knows where he’ll soon be invited.
The Reaper Man never comes without invitation. Sometimes through carelessness sometimes in desperation, a gild trimmed card comes to him and he rarely says no. Old Reaper Man stands near that famous curve in the road, where many have gone flying off of the road, having maybe drunk too much or gone to fast. He stands in the battle-fields, he stands in the ocean’s rage, in hospitals or maybe racing tracks and sometimes on a bright summer day, he waits to walk with an old lady or gentleman.
And now he stands near the window, waiting just waiting, to be invited yet once again. As Suzy wheezes and her temperature rises.
© G.s.k. ‘15
I’m still experimenting with prose poetry … I thank Al of A Mixed Blog and Sunday Photo Fiction for this interesting photo to write to! (This is also the last of the drafts I’d put aside for February 3rd).