PREPARATION

God stretches and stands,
Reaching for the stick and the slouch hat
(Which the seraphim hate

Since it makes Him look disreputable)
And whistles for His dog, meaning
To be off again on His travels.

As usual, He pauses, sighs,
Puts down the stick, hangs the hat

Back on its hook, and gives the dog
A biscuit. Still, three senior angels
Have drawn up protocols, just in case.

MY FATHER'S ANGELS

I wrote a poem once about the angels

Who casually walk in and out of stories

My father wrote. They seem different

From the ones I’ve known – quieter,

More reflective, much better at listening.

Though it isn’t always mentioned, I believe

Many of them, like God, have a dog.

Late at night, the angels and their dogs

Go downstairs and take each other walking.

My angels resent playing utility.

When necessary, some cats or a shadow

Usually show up help me, or the odd saint

Looking to supplement her pension.