Narrative

When you go 
dancing with Death
you’re a little bit shy,
but he’s all
sweet talk and smiles
as he tells you
it’s not abnormal
to die.
So you follow him
onto the dance floor,
and he takes you
In his arms
as gently
as the slow, slow waltz
the band is playing
and you put your head
on his shoulder
as the music
carries you away,
while around you
lights twinkle,
fine gowns and tails twirl.
Then it all feels different,
the music is faster,
your breath comes hard
as you spin round and round
and it’s all a blur
until someone bellows,
STOP!
and you find yourself
in a dark place
with dancers and musicians
all gone from a room
without exits,
and your silver-tongued partner
has vanished
but he’s done his job well,
and you stand and wait
for heaven or hell.

Dancing With Death