Angels by Donna Hilbert

      for Jill Young

Angels file their nails, floss their teeth,
play charades and trivial pursuit,
always taking pains to keep
their fingers busy
knowing full well to be idle—
even for angels—begs trouble.
Angels in raiment
of virginal lingerie
repose on chaise lounges
while watching the world
like mid-season TV—
re-runs of arguments, car chases,
armies amassing at borders.
Angels are helpless to act
until someone asks.
Occasionally one is requested
to stop a train in …

More In: Poetry