Death

 Death in a time of plague

He died at home in bed

In the check pajamas 

His wife had bought him

Twenty years before 

In a sale in Dunne’s Store. 

He slipped away peacefully

The end came mercifully 

The coroner will probably 

Confirm Covid nineteen. 

He was a good man

Who stole from no one

Who paid his taxes

Who asked for nothing. 

And nothing he received 

He who paid his dues

Not too rich and not too poor 

For the state to pay attention. 

Invisible now and silent too

He slipped between the cracks

That  allowed in a little light

An Everyman, like me, like you. 

Because of Covid

No final hurrah

No gun salute

Just a gentle wave. 

So he departs 

From a place called home

To a grave by the sea

With a granite headstone.