Now here’s a strange true story, mostly, proved by a photograph:
Angel Wings
I know it means something, this moment
of surprise
,
when I’ve hurled myself out of the car
late as always for an obligation
in that grim world of a parking garage
too far from where I have to be to be there on time
and at my feet
on the yellow paint between gray spaces
rests a pair of white feathered wings
child size
.
Immediately I see they’re too small for me
but I’m staggered
,
caught in the open door
between the woman who is late and another
who can stop, bend down, take the gift
slip them on, lift my arms and fly
.
In that moment, the clocks stop too
the whole world shrinks
as the white wings spread
and stroke
and stroke
against the sky
And for no extra charge,
a Sunday 160 version in exactly 160 characters
a sort of angel rap piece for my favorite character, Monkey Man,
He Who Hosts the Microest of Micro Fiction:
He Who Hosts the Microest of Micro Fiction:
Angel stop
Angel drop
Angel rock’n’roll
What da weather
Chicken feather
Angel do a poll
Weather fair
Angel hair
Angel wear a stole
Angel wing
Angel fling
Angel save a soul
Strange, the things you might stumble across while doing the humdrum stuff of daily living, if you keep your eyes open. May you be surprised today.
18 comments:
Thank you, and I am looking. Those are pretty angel wings.
That was just lovely.
pretty cool to stumble upon them...so did you actually put them on? smiles.
I get excited when I find a penny! Those would have put me over the moon:)
Ooh - love the wings! And the poem they inspired...
I hung mine on the wall, where I can see them but not be tempted.
Angel wings have special meaning to Mrs. MM and I. We hung ours on the wall.
How interesting. Thank you for sharing. Blessings.
Great! thanks- What a find!
Absolutely, stop, live in the magical moment. Wonderful story.
Your 160 is too fun.
Wonderful poem of a moment, and moment.
I think I'm most taken with the 160 though. Strange and effective.
Beautiful.
Very interesting, love the picture.
My heart breaks for the child who lost them, but it looks as though they were meant for you.
a white feather
onto my shoulder
from a clear blue sky
one special day
I find the shell angel wings at the beach. I think that they are special too.
This post is exactly what fuels me. Not simply the wonderful content and randomness but the discovery from one coast to another of a mirror-spirit grabbing hunks of life by the fistful no matter where it appears. Had you not stopped by my little peninsula of words and pictures and left a message in a bottle, I would not have ventured here and read your clever post nor would I have met a fellow citizen versed in verse and hugging life with all the fervor of a young child in a parentless toy store. I like your blog, appreciate your visit and wish you all the best. East Coast Reflection
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