Lo

Lo

I’ve been looking for angels but I don’t know what to look for. Do they make you feel suddenly like morning? Are they strong as horses in a field? Maybe one is at a gate and you offer your apple not even knowing. Maybe they live in places where the doors don’t stay closed. Maybe they are the doors. I mean, it’s ok if they have wings. They could be every wing. Every where. Every why. It could be everyone has one somewhere. Hidden in their body or their apartment or with them in their pocket on the evening walk.  (I don’t expect there will be an arrow pointing.) I read how someone cupped another’s face in their hands for a few moments once long ago and that someone never got over it. That’s the thing; it’s hard to tell if something is perfect or terrible. The one vibration that shatters the glass. The heart that broke a million times over.  If a voice came out of the sky. 

Jeanie Tomasko