the death tender
her home was outside the village
near the stables
quiet, restful, separate
she spent her time reading, or writing, or tending to her flowers
she had a cat that liked to nap
she was the death tender
summoned when necessary
needed
tucked away otherwise
she arrived smelling of star anise
that left a taste on your tongue even after she left
from breathing in, and breathing out
the anointed scent of journey
beyond
her breathing whispered Pachelbel’s canon
the one in D
the parade dirge
keeping everything moving along as it should, as it would
the death tender shook out the thin veil
that wrapped itself around the room
so instead of haunting it was inviting
silvery wisps of blessed light peaking through
she prayed in ancient prose to ancient ones who had long ago
slipped into the light
an ancient light growing brighter
never extinguishing
bringing ancient and present together in one star,
the return home
after death
the death tender returned
to her own home
outside the village
near the stables
for now
knowing one day the ancient would pull her through
to return to being
stardust scented anise