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The mood of this poem is bittersweet. It is sad and happy, as the author knows death is inevitable, but wants to die feeling acomplished. The tone is hopeful. The author wants to live a full life and her tone reflects that. We see this in the end when she describes how she wants to have a real, particular life and does not want to visit the world only.

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The theme of this poem is "life is short so don't waste it." We see this when they describe life using words that have a positive connotation and when they describe death as hungry.

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The author personifies death through metaphors in the first half of the poem. They referred to death as a "hungry bear in autumn." This means that it is searching for food and is eager to eat. What death is eating in this case, is life.
Another way that they used some devices was through comparing life to things. It was compared to daisies and comfortable music. These two sets of comparisons make for a contradictory tone for each as the words have opposite connotations. The author also uses the word death a lot in the first half and puts much emphasis on it to make it sound more stressed.

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When Death Comes

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

—Mary Oliver

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A poem by Mary Oliver
Presentation by Erik Olijnyk

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https://drive.google.com/file/d/15F6f0mt_hvBH6ZHD7ZehKlJnlguQ3iD0/view?usp=sharing