by Glen Martin Fitch
Though seldom seen
he's always hanging 'round.
You're never safe.
He'll elbowed his way in.
I fear if I deny him
he'll confound my plan,
surprise me with his killer grin.
I keep out of his way,
because I hope
if I ignore him,
he'll ignore me too.
I tease him sometimes
(it's a way to cope)
A moth and flame game,
one cannot undo.
I fear he likes his humor
gross and grim.
I've lately thought
"Should I make him my friend
till he gets bored with me?'
I bet the end will come too soon
when I've forgotten him.
I ask
(though I seem morbid,
prying, rude)
What deal have YOU made
with that Reaper dude?
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011