ODD ANGEL OUT

Fallen angel
on the run

hunted down
by the Host

and an ever wrathful
Almighty

gone to ground
in my Da's shed

amongst a million things
that are of no use no more

but may be
someday you never know

huddled beside a paraffin can
a bottle of turpentine...the smell of pine

camouflaged as a shaft
of sunlight

its voice a dancing
of dust motes.

All because it longed
to be human.

Finding sanctuary
in my Da's shed

'cos if anybody can
show  him

what to be
human is

only my Da
can.

I take the angel's hand in mine
(feels as if there is nothing there )

the shed lit
in a Carol Reedish way.

My Da's whistling
nearing the door

that opens with
a creak of thought

"See..?" I say "...see!"