Death Took a Day Off

Death called Illness 
I have it! She screamed.
Illness began guessing. The black plague? The white plague? 
The red plague?

What the heck was the red plague?
Death remembered suddenly why she never called Illness.
I have to go, she said. I have a call on my other line.
She was coughing up a lung now; her throat was sore.
It felt like an oak tree forest was sitting on her chest.

Death called Lucifer’s assistant, Lola.
I am taking the day off, she said. No souls will be released today.
Lola said “Fine by me, I have paperwork, but you have to call THE MAN.”
Can’t you handle that for me?” Death pleaded.
She coughed loudly, hoping Lola would relent.
You’ll be fine, Lola assured her. It’s not like you do this every day.

Heaven’s lines were busy all day, so no one knew Death took the day off.
Suspicious arose in the middle of the afternoon though 
When no souls had arrived for eight hours.
Prayers are in full force today, an angel said. 
God smiled. Because Death took the day off.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Roper Avatar
March 31, 2020 at 12:26 AM
Good one, Caren. I enjoyed reading. Your humor hasn't left you.
Krutsinger Avatar
March 31, 2020 at 5:07 AM
My humor will be the last thing to go. I got it from my mother and my father, and I still laugh at some of the things they came up with!
Kiser Avatar
March 30, 2020 at 6:41 PM
Whoa! Heavy stuff! Death should probably take a few months off, maybe years? Very original.
Krutsinger Avatar
March 30, 2020 at 8:17 PM
I think it should take a year off.
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace