we drive today
on friday
the thirteen
toward that eternal battle
between life and death,
hoping
against hope for
good news
good friendship
good times
even if they could be
the last.
i have never faced death
myself,
though
he teased me once
with a glimpse
many years ago
as our car spun around
and slammed into
a ditch.
he has taunted me
many times hence
by plucking
the ones i love
from my life
one
by
one
till i call out to him
for relief.
but he is like a cat,
never coming when called.
choosing instead
to be coy
in our game
where i am the mouse.
