My Angel #1

My angel refuses to be like the others

He removed his wings and is not on television


He’s a “he” which I find ironic

But then, to be spiritual in an age of religious

fanaticism is to be ironical

My angel leaves spider webs undisturbed.

He traces tears and claims salt from the sweat of pyramid builders

He has a droll sense of humor—he’s my angel.


I often think that if he were human, I’d marry him.

But his immortality keeps us apart.  It’s such an old story.


As for now, I am grateful for his ability

to capture curses before the make their way

towards my soul.


after Nina Zivancevic

Posted in Poetry.