THE FRAGILITY OF ANGELS
A glass angel was lost in song. The call
from earth broke her out. Escaping music
she dropped, her speed fed by joy. Her short fall
was named to break her into shards—sharp sticks
of glass to pierce fog hiding unmourned sins.
When someone prayed, that was her job. She’d show
her face reflecting the face of a prayer.
Wounds bled. She wasn’t safe for most humans.
She endangered herself. Her fine fragments snowed
earthward. Broken angels can’t be repaired.
Some small pieces, though, got stuck in bare flesh—
A foot or finger—a mouth would curse God—
mildly. Warm blood and remorse formed a nest.
She’d wait. Some cold day, the flesh, for some odd
reason, would wander through an open door—
Some temple or church. A place made holy
by ignorance and desire. There, a cruel saint
could see her and weep. That was enough. More
would be sacrilege. She’d become lonely,
sing a mirror, rise, keeping her chant plain.
Mark J. Mitchell’s latest novel, The Magic War just appeared from Loose Leaves Publishing. A Full-length collection of poems will released next year by Encircle Publications. He studied writing at UC Santa Cruz under Raymond Carver and George Hitchcock. His work has appeared in the several anthologies and hundreds of periodicals. Three of his chapbooks— Three Visitors, Lent, 1999, and Artifacts and Relics—and the novel, Knight Prisoner are available through Amazon and Barnes and Noble. He lives with his wife the activist and documentarian, Joan Juster and makes a living pointing out pretty things in San Francisco.
A meager online presence can be found at https://www.facebook.com/MarkJMitchellwriter/