It was the first day of fall

And I assure you I did my best to stall

On my last day I signed a death certificate 

It’s like death always finds a way to spit

What was the cause? 

Who knows? 

The medical examiner (who wasn’t called) and God, I suppose

To the generalist, it’s still a mystery

I just went off the ER doctor’s history

She’d stepped out one last time to smoke

On the way, did she choke?

For some reason, she went down

There wasn’t even enough time to put her in a hospital gown

Surely tobacco played a part 

But I put as the cause that it was her heart 

Isn’t that the case for each of us?

Smokers or not, we all go back to dust 

The saying is that death visits in threes

In the other report this week I received

The morgue was listed as the man’s disposition

Turns out for some time his heart had been quittin’

Who is number 3? 

I wonder through some of the falling leaves 

On the way home I dodged a speeding truck

And on my walk I eluded a falling branch 

When does fate catch up to luck?

It’s a miracle we’re all here 

Functioning

All these countless cells 

As the weather and others and accidents and diseases cast their spells

Every day is Halloween

And we’re all just treading outside the morgue 

Signing each other’s death certificates 

As the cigarettes keep burning

And the seasons keep turning

It’s really quite horrific 

Wondering who will be next 

Ourselves we never suspect 

The secretary came to me with a sticky note

And my phone rang for the last time 

A hooded figure stood outside my window in a long dark coat 

I sneaked out the back door 

At least that time – to my car 

Started driving away from the office, from the hospital 

I checked the rear-view mirror 

I never did hear her

In my back seat, sitting up, gleaming, was the woman for whom I’d signed the death receipt 

And a smoldering cigarette beneath her feet