The Archangel Corelli could be seen sometimes
As a shadowy figure on the edge of a crowd
Huddled around a winter's night fire
Burning in a trash barrel. It was known
That he and God were no longer speaking.
He could never be seen whole. You might
See two eyes glitter and then turn dark
Or a hand reaching from a coat's ragged cuff,
Prestidigitator's fingers spread wide. Once,
I saw a sword, or at least a scabbard,
Dangling at his waist and thought I heard
The blade begging to be set free.
It's been years
Since I've seen a street fire and years
Since I've seen the Archangel Corelli.
No comments:
Post a Comment