—I AM WAITING, SHOULD I BE WAITING?

 

Angel

 

The angel was 

bearded and wearing 

a trucker hat 

a flag tattoo on 

its forearm 

almost longer 

than its forearm 

It wanted to 

save me 

from my 

foolishness and 

imminent doom 

It held 

out it’s hand 

and began to 

lift me up close 

to that arena 

people call Heaven 

but then 

I saw the logo 

on the angel’s 

cap and pulled back 

my fingers 

lost any 

sort of grip 

I might have had

I fell through 

layers of clouds 

as if I’d turned 

into hailstones 

so large they

crack windshields 

but somehow

leave the flowers 

and deer alone