It’s early morning
I wake up; the dreams and nightmares alike are lifted from my eyes
And the promises I made in vain keep following me around
The birds that were supposed to fly south keep changing their mind
I consider for a moment whether to point them in the right direction
But I have guests;
The Death knocks on my door just as the water boils
And I make tea, cut some cake, make them welcome in my home
It is the not the first time that we’ve met and probably not the last
They tell me all about their work and how it’s tiring them out
Then we play a game of cards
In a stroke of luck I win an absolution from my sins
I feel the pain inside my chest lessen just a tiny bit;
They shake my hand, pat me on my back and stand up
I can’t help but notice that their scythe has a trail of rust
Waving goodbye, I close the door
I clean things up, wash the dishes, put them all away
Waste another day