Tuesday, April 06, 2010


Photo by S. Auberle
Not supposed to write
poems about angels,
so my writing teacher says.
No sunsets, roses, rainbows, doves...
hard realism, he says.
But I like angels.
Grievous, fallen, tarnished,
those flying too close to the ground,
like this one I found today
in the second-hand shop
on the shelf marked "damaged goods."
Serene, exquisitely so,
and I could find nothing wrong
till I turned her upside down and read
angel with no halo.
Whatever she'd done
to lose her halo, it was nothing
I hadn't done too,
or at least seriously considered.
Damaged goods? Who isn't?
~ S. Auberle
Going through some old photos, this angel spoke to me today, so since nothing new has popped into my head, I thought I'd let her have her say...she's a recycle, but she IS green...
From Crow Ink, 2009 Little Eagle Press


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