The angels are picking people up and leaving the horizon
out there in the distance
I see them

I suppose it’s supposed to be quite beautiful.
Perhaps poignant.

They could be dropping them in the sea
Or onto rocks
But we’ll assume it’s to heaven they go.

I really hope they do get there
I hope I get there

Because it’s been tiring
And lonely
It has been a long time since someone’s eyes have met mine
And even longer since winter began
There is happiness awakening in Berlin, Prague, New York,
Only it is a very static form
It takes short breaths before it is put down
And when it is its eyes swivel around in its hollow head
We all stroke it as it passes on

It is tiring. Too tiring.
There are no beds anymore
Not a feather

I scrunch up the membrane of my eyes and tell myself
Forget all the little loves
The summers that were so eternal
That autumn and winter became calm and just
Forget it all
All the people on buses and trains and pavements and in shops
Forget it
Forget it
Forget it

And now, here is my angel.