My candle batteries are still lasting. They’ve brought me light since Wednesday, but this morning I need more. So I curled up in the embrace of the two gigantic angels who always stand at my back, have my back. More than one person who has eyes to see such beings has pointed them out to me. At first I kept asking them for their names but they never told me, so I called them “Frick and Frack.” It stuck. So this poem is for them.

Respite

Standing at our backs,
Your expansive wings enfold
These unfledged humans
Who recoil from the miasma of hate
That now pollutes each breath we take
In this land of the once free.

Recoil or cower,
Which is it?

We shelter within stalwart wings waiting
For healing and spirit-washed air
To fill our lungs.

Then
We repair the breach.

c. Rita H Kowats 1-9-21

Photo Credit: https://www.jing.fm/idown/iimxihw_clipart-chromatic-angel-wings-within-angel-wings-clipart/

Find Life. Celebrate it.