He carries a light.
I wasn’t expecting that.
He came to me as I sat on my poorch.
My bones creaking as load as the well worn rocking chair.
I felt him at my side.
His cold hand caressing my cheek.
The light filled my eyes as I turned to him.
It opened every corner of my being
Shining on every shadowed corner of my life.
I saw my mother in that light
I sighed into his embrace
Letting the glow wash over me.
I wasn’t expecting the light.
I always thought death carried a scythe