Angels in Snow
Angels are made --
Wooly winged and shod,
Eagerness mittened in --
With infinite care.
Snow first. Then
To fall back,
Open-eyed to God.
Eons dissolve as
Giddy with grace
The form takes
Rising is the hard part.
To resist the receiving snow,
Then focus forward haloed head,
Heels dug in
Equal elbows bent,
Now! Heart-breath lift!
A good mornings work.
Westering light reveals the fresco:
A multitude of the heavenly host.
One ponders love
Earth upside down,
Sky dizzy with remembered
--Marilyn Ward Coll
Anywhere But Here
If I could be anywhere
Where would I be?
Believe you me
Perhaps on a yacht
On the ocean
Perhaps on the next flight
Anywhere but here
Believe you me
Cause Jersey in summer
Aint no place to
Dawns poem was written in a writing workshop sponsored by
the Hoboken Clergy Coalition Shelter for the Homeless when she resided
Today there is voting in our neighborhood.
pull up, ease into the drive
The sky is overcast.
are the ordinary, the silent,
and the old.
Drab as the rain that comes
and goes --
almost as invisible.
They enter the school building:
Each in turn will pull a lever as if
lighting a small votive candle.
Better than to curse the darkness perhaps.
Too tired for
any other kind of prayer,
they leave to live beyond any elected promises
but their own.
A clunker starts and gurgles down the drive --
epic of some forgotten time.
Thats the word: epic.
beyond promises no matter how brittle.
As a wise man once said,
more than survival, somehow, we will endure.
--Sr. Lou Ella Hickman, IWBS
Susquehanna Cliff Outlook
At the edge of mossed-down, windswept cliff,
at valley deaths and valley dream.
Where Susquehannocks watched, I wonder
they foresaw bays and seas in this thin stream
and somehow sensed that
settlers carts and rafts
would crown their paths and hack their woods
as wrights worked and weighed their lumber, crops and
and sent them drifting down to merchants yield
coin, and tonnage on the ships
that formed flotillas in the Chesapeake
and eastward, northward, steamed, or, full-sailed, whipped
starched and laced-tight armed elite.
Where tribal councils met on
they fell forward once the guns of greed were
--Sr. Pamela Smith, SSCM
Orchard Lake, Mich.
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