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ANGELS

They don’t fly on wings
like heavenly things:
the Angels
They don’t come with a cloud
they don’t cry out loud
Sometimes they’re tired
ungainly and small:
Angels all


They don’t carry arms
or heavenly charms:
the Angels
They’re out on the street
on tires and feet
with patience to heed
life’s liberating call:
Angels all


They’ve watered and fed
and suffered and bled:
the Angels
They’ve listened and seen
wherever they’ve been
to witness the scene
at the wailing wall:
Angels all


They stand in the way
of harm’s mindless sway:
the Angels
They weep and they moan
They’re hard as a stone
to remind and remember
the animals’ fall:
Angels all

(by Michael Blanke)



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