1241
26.v.23
4.147
Moldovița
the yellow and blue
scenes from
the life
and
so much
beheading
(noble way, sainted
faces show
martyr’s
fast track to heaven)
and there
are wings of fire
scrolls to
hold
it’s hard to
remember who everyone was
but we get
the general idea
gold just
for haloes
the miracles
of healing
true vine
water on a
fish
tread devil
down
so much
blood!
the word is blade
as well
sword
through
run out of
cheeks to turn
just saintly
for so long
it’s kingdom
after kingdom
monks of the
brush survive
and though
they take up printing
look long
enough here
you’ll be
illiterate
a woodpecker
patient with a cross at the top
taps timber
out of the day
considering the femininity of angels
at Sucevița
for godsbother
legions
thereof
much
trumpeted, may harp
how they are
aloft to deck the halls, hover
it’s as
during the war, an auxiliary corps
up and down
the ladder
leading all the
best along
and pop you
into heaven snug
time must
have begun before them
angels drop
down for a visit
give us the
nod and the goss
sometimes
they draw close, confer
with stars
to catch
they’re
heavenly
and perch as
birds have learned
no levity,
nor sneer with them
angels are
never sarcastic
but humble!
it’s what
forever does
when they
weep it’s creepy
exquisite in
sadness yet
folded in
feather and robe
they look
good in a gossamer way
keep up
their amazement
the most
natural thing in the world
you get them
fleeting in the mirror
who knows?
they are
sincere
even fallen
they are of forever
(hell hurts but
it’s much more fun)
sweet, compliant
to a greater will
up, down and
on the way
an angel
will never complain
but bustle
about most meaning
their
wonders never done
delighted
with the chanting
angels might
break into song
we are their
only entertainment
there’s not
a hint of a smile
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