Below the pool, stone feet rest frozen. Lovely
fell the water. Forward stepped an angel, throat
hollow. One piece: holy, gold, and small. His shirt
blue. And when he wore it turned like an arm crook,
I felt kissed. Leaned man. Arm weight balanced.
Me: woman water, turning to mustache-face
and saying our child’s gone hid. The man wore
in his ears pins made of gold and I saw a feature
on his face slightly tremble, his body color dark
apricots, the color of my dress, which I wore like a lake,
watched by a woman who said she’d been touched
by an angel on her behind, the lake acting as balustrade,
and us again, stone-seated on a bench drenched in lilies.