Angel Near the Tracks

She comes

brought to (waking)

with need

~

that which can't be fixed

on a stone slab

and pain lets off

all quarters.

~

             The  red kettle and bell.

This sharpening close

to her source.

~

Joy and every character

who has crossed our path

this year

rises in our house

~

One feels the future

fits in the palm like a stop watch

and chain

~

sometimes

fleeting

~

breath on a winter's night

~

She can't see our faces

clearly, and if she did

get the timing wrong, it's all right

you see

~

otherwise she might have missed the very next

~

She will borrow what's improbable

~

until the last guest arrives

until the first early hours dissipate in wet fog

Mary-Marcia Casoly