the seeming flashes of lightning
jet lights on ascent
blinded passengers breaking
through to look down onto nothing seas
wings slowly icing
and we left standing
in this world below
mirrored hall of soft and eerie
somehow still cheery with velvet chill.
i will grasp your wing hand
pull you up laughing
from snow angel crash-landing
cold melting down your coatneck.
i’ll take you child anyday
crash of grace in the backward places
barns we forgot were there
left standing and
how hay was made sweet for this
and rough men by angel tones touched
hope falls simple as an evening snow
wait before you go.