it was the desert
before me from
a sliding glass door
everybody i knew
from childhood
was there
two tiny black spots
writhing in the sky
grew and twisted
into angels that
only i could see
then they were gone
i came to show you
a song i had made
and everyone there
was already singing
it
i took you to your door
to show you the angels
you held my hand
but they did not
reappear
bhagiti 8.18.07 perrysburg, oh
