8 May 2025
A N G E L S
A N G E L S
There are supposedly angels
resigned from flight
all this time
their wings careening off
of their shoulders,
still shimmying
under golden tufts of light
from the sun, that lets
only angels hold it, even loosely
without vanishing.
and for the rest of us
the light melts on
our soft surfaces, only
to disappear again
(we cannot be trusted
without wings)
we forgot about the angels
when we gave them
names
and it grew on
them so much so that they
discovered the respite
of ground touching feet.
who are your angels?
you can tell by the way
they walk, teetering on
our pavements without
shoes,
each step sending a current of pain
and
pleasure, glassy eyes
arrested by ecstasy,
discovering the human curse
wings shimmying
under tufts of fluorescent light.