Friday, March 11, 2022

Barroom Angels by Bruce Morton

We cannot see them.
We have yet to see them.
But we know they are there,
All about us in the air,
Flying unidentified,
Assessing us, impressing us,
Oppressing us, distressing us,
As we wonder our wonder of us.
WTF?
            Perhaps they are just
Angels, uncertain as to mission,
Baffled by the human condition?




Bruce Morton divides his time between Montana and Arizona. He was formerly a librarian at Montana State University.


-

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

spectator sport By Chris Dean

I watch the butts pile in the ashtray, one, two…three. I should quit. Again. But I lie to myself about the when. I lie to myself a lot. It&#...

  • Gozzlebeck’s By Terry Jude Miller
    near the on-ramp of I-10 in Crowley, Louisiana we unload our band equipment into the back of Gozzlebeck’s not the real name of the bar but a...
  • A Toast To Lust By Rita S. Spalding
    Diamond hair Bathe in bourbon and butter You are my Sunday prayer You are everything  You are all You are life Rita S. Spalding has had poem...
  • her son By Stephen House
    there is a woman who is sometimes at my local café sitting outside with a glass of white wine and that’s not too unusual but i always notice...