Joseph Farley

Behold a Pale Rider

Death is coming
upon a white horse
or driving a Camaro
or riding on a jet ski.

Death waves
and passes by.
The sweat drips
down your brow.
A smile of relief
forms on your face.

Not me. Not me.
Not this time. 
Maybe next.
But not now.

I can go on
and party and dance
or maybe just work
another day,
come home tired,
not enough energy
to fight or argue
or even watch TV.