A girl in a cotton slip

This poem by Dorianne Laux gets me every time:

DEATH COMES TO ME AGAIN, A GIRL

Death comes to me again, a girl
in a cotton slip, barefoot, giggling.
It's not so terrible she tells me,
not like you think, all darkness
and silence. There are windchimes
and the smell of lemons, some days
it rains, but more often the air is dry
and sweet. I sit beneath the staircase
built from hair and bone and listen
to the voices of the living. I like it,
she says, shaking the dust from her hair,
especially when they fight, and when they sing.
---
I have a copy of Smoke, and find that every time I open the book, this poem is on the page that I turn to. This is probably because I've purposely turned to the page to read the poem so many times before. I like it so much because it's a portrayal of death you rarely see. It almost makes you want to follow this girl to wherever her home is. Almost. The picture is so pleasant, but she still likes when we fight. Fight for life before we die? Or fight with others while we are living? I think it might be the first. Or maybe both. She's listening in to us all, but also seems to like the passion we have for fighting, and for singing.

Makes me think of Charon, Thanatos, the White Horseman, and death personified. Death always seems to be the usherer to another realm. I'd almost nix my statement, but if "death rides a pale horse" where are we going when he meets up with us?

Thanatos was the twin of sleep, Hypnos. Death carried a butterfly, wreath, or inverse torch in hand. other. To me, that suggests some place not entirely bad at all. Throw Sleep into the mix, and poppies, and I wonder about the wake-up call. Endymion chose to sleep with his eyes open, transfixed on the moon. That reminds me of Buddha choosing to stay and teach.

Who can say?