Kids were playing
In the summer sun
A soft breeze
Kissed the leaves
Of the laburnum trees
As shrieks and squeals
Of delight
Interspersed with
The excuted yapping
Of a small dog
Are all that announced
His arrival
He didn’t come
On a dark and ragged cloud
He didn’t arrive
To a chorus of terrible screams
Or the smell of brimstone
But to the peals of laughter
And the smell of fresh cut grass
He turned heads as he passed
Smiling a perfect white smile
At those kids as only he could
No rusty serrated
Switch blade grin here, then
A mother takes a photo
On an instamatic camera
And the world holds it’s breath
As the flash explodes
And faces turn to see
He watched their terror grow
In tandem with the cloud
And straightened up his tie
Whatever else
Death knew how to dress
They all agreed
On this, their fateful day
As other flashes
Like camera bulbs exploded
Across the land
As he led them on their way.