Next door’s angel kept her watch all Christmas
as if even her neon blood was warmed
by all that love and peace. I’d see her
if I woke at night, resting on Mary’s wall,
wings spread and glowing golden.
Epiphany came, and she was packed away
to wait the year out, leaving the night
sullen and dark, or hazed and mazed with stars,
much colder and more distant
than our fearful lights, more enduring.
We blaze with self-importance,
but in the end, we’re small,
and faint, and human.
I’m hosting at dVerse tonight, and our theme is the elements – the chemical ones, not the astrological ones! Check out the other dVerse poets, and join in.