Death's Hands Welcoming

An old man, wearing a hat Waits under the shade He wears colors like yellow and green Not dark like black, not even gray He doesn't wait to cross the road He smiles at everyone who comes his way His hands are welcoming His face is warm Those who have lived Give him their hand He guides them away To his own land No one knows where he goes But we know his good He accompanies the end The young and old