. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . where ImagInatIon comes to play

Saturday, January 29, 2011

absconded angel

.

He left no trace
of wounded wings
or footsteps in the snow

She stands stalk still
against the elm tree near
the barren snow
(a trillion flakes of white if one!)
where he laid looking at the sun.

Afraid that if she moves
it will be true that
he has left,
she waits naked in the cold

And imagines she sees her angel
saunter down McMillan
on that frosty night
while she slept

.

3 comments:

Anthony Duce said...

I very much enjoyed. Thank you

Marjolaine Hébert said...

:-)

The Phoenix Rising said...

Nice poem =)

http://lacalmaelavirtudeiforti.blogspot.com/