death, what a funny guy he is.
he would invite me to dance with him at 3 am .in the middle of the witches woods surrounded by darkening oceans which gave the sirens a voice so they blew there breath into a shell and they sang.
you see he would walk to me at the latest hours of the night swoop me up in his dark, shivering arms. apologize for the coldness. saying mother nature really doesn't send sunshine where he lives.
I always wondered what it was like where he called home. he never cared to mention it to me. so I left it at that. an untalked about subject.
after our midnight waltz, we would lie down under the pale moonlight and the glistening stars.
we would lie there for hours seeing whom can count the most constellations. he always won though. only because when someone young passes he walks them up the stairs to heaven or whereever you go when he greets you and tells you he offers you eternal sleep.
he showed me at a very young age how take the bad days and find the good in them. you see if you tilt your head and squint a little you will see that the ugly bad days are just funny little monsters who are more afraid of us than we are of them
he told me in his cold raspy voice that the clouds don't own the sky that they can't cry forever and I guess that was enough to light up my tired eyes and crooked smile or should I say frown.
I hugged him because he taught me that good days do arrive that the starry train station in the sky where hope lives isn't runned down.
but as my arms wrapped around him he vanished.
I woke up in my bed alone with the moon and I saw him looking down at me from the creasent moons body. we locked eyes and this time he didn't go away yet he laughed.
that is the last I have heard from him but his laughter rings in my ears when ever I am sad and I know he is always watching over me because he and I found a little sunshine in each other's smiles.
©lovelypoet
L