Death sat at my kitchen table

crawled unto my lap and slept.

It left its cold paw on my skin

as my hands cradled it warm.

I knew she would come,

we are no strangers.

I welcomed her in,

stayed to watch her grow,

while life lost the short battle

in this furry skin.

Rigid now,

eyes opened watching none.

I thank life and death

for their brief visit,

whisper in opened earth "come again"