When I attended seminary,
No, really I did,
we learned the word above
meant The Burning Ones,
angels and flaming
spirits sent by God,
emissaries of divine presence
and truth.
There’s this girl,
No, really there is,
who runs by the house
every morning, her
face etched with pain
and determination.
Then within the hour
she walks the other
way, probably to work,
without the pain, but
just as much determination,
smoking a cigarette.
No, really she does.
Either way she burns
and I’m afraid
to speak to her,
No, really I am.
♥