He comes to me electrically, charging.
His hair rusts, crumbles. Cracked
glass eyes delve into me before
his linen wings holler their drone
against my ears.
I can’t take it.
Duck, cover;
clinch, he catches me, we are away.
Angel feet dangle seeking
mine to catch so I don’t fall,
angel heart beats me to dreaming,
maybe? I can still see,
upturned faces struck with wonder,
or fear,
both?
A man stares, gun held limply,
above the wall I soar.
My condemners can eat their words.
Now they know:
I am saved.
07/09/05
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Blimey! ! Powerful indeed, Kim! A great subject, expertly handled. Jon.