Everpresent Guest

Talons close
with an angry snarl
an atom short of flesh:
ancient appetites whetted
but still outwitted
by the thinnest
shred of skin.

But then Death pauses, smiles,
leans back and relaxes,
satisfied to know
that he fattens on both
the quick and the slow,
each in their own good time.

Source: Poetry (December 2024)