The Coffin Maker

He minds his business at hand.
Polishing his caskets,
And with such tender care.
He steps back,
Just to check his handiwork.

How he wishes,
To have more customers.
Then his business would thrive.
A macabre business.
Where death is a source of livelihood.

He looks at me keenly,
As I cross the street.
I can read his mind clearly from here.
He is wondering,
When shall I lie down… dead.
Another customer.

I make quick steps away from him
And his evil gaze.
It is too early,
To be reminded of the certain date with destiny.
I refuse to be another customer today…

© Ayoub Mzee Mzima 2013


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