The Wings You Keep Tucked Away. {poetry}
Down feathers are always with you now
Crowning your head
and slipping out your sleeves
when you think no one is looking.
You leave behind hollows
Filled with the soft white things;
And it is true, I think,
that you are no longer quite one of those things that we call human.
Your heart has shifted
from something bloody and aortic
to a golden molten marble,
and now when you walk,
you jingle.
Your wings you keep tucked away,
Folded in on themselves in preparation
for aviation and some great unknown
that is only hinted at on full moons.
A small child sees you.
She cannot help but mouth,
“An angel! An angel!”
And you,
you only smile.
And the feathers pool in footprints behind you.