.
Before they ripen into diffused spirits
angels are leaf-stalks
and their wings begonia leaves
with dark surfaces
and red glitterings within.
Slowly, very slowly, they emerge out of the flower-pot
of the body,
take on the face of Bill or Bob,
pierce through the cool bower
of the world and ascend like the promise
of a harmonious end;
on their lips shine
the last bubbles of our breathing,
those droplets
of our unrelieved loneliness.
.
~ Katerina Anghelaki-Rooke
Into the Thanksgiving field
-
On this new Thanksgiving Day, it is so easy to take for granted that
tomorrow will come – that another opportunity will be given to witness a
sunrise, spe...
10 hours ago