WAITING FOR DEATH

How tedious it is waiting for Death
when She is still dressing up
to sit in a quagmire of silent prayer
while sandwiches turn dry

How tedious when a nappy
must still be changed
as Forgiveness waits for a touch
and a mantra hangs like a noose

How tedious when the chain
thins but do not break
links either clogged or rusty
clock hands not moving a second

Then a message is written and
read twenty times
mascara brush picked up hurriedly
Death did not even knock

©ghairodanielspoetry