She danced on the head of Billy’s pin*,
Unencumbered by the weight of conscience,
fear of rejection, too much ice cream.
When it was time to go,
she flapped her wings and
set off to New York City
or maybe southwest
to San Diego.
But, perhaps her assignment
shifted to the south of France
creating wind currents for
cliff divers in the Gorges de Verdun
Or she may flap particularly hard
to the right and end up at
the pediatric ward
of a hospital in Nebraska
To swing dance opposite Lily Donn
As she readies for her
bone marrow transplant.
Once, I saw a duck lift off the river
right on the wet precipice
of Niagra Falls,
Like this angel on a mission.
Perhaps I need to change directions, too.
Avoid the cliff and head back
to Billy’s sewing room,
find that pin,
and invite his angel friend
over for peppermint tea,
stories about her dog, and a dance
to happy jazz.
*”Questions About Angels” by Billy Collins
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/176044
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