Gabriel

GABRIEL

Hand is a hindrance, Gabriel, fingers in the way . . . souls slip

between incomplete triangles, tangles of irregularity.

The sparrow sings her joyous song, witness to the

invisible collision,

immortal connection.

Reflection indicates a weaving, but

projection impels the sometimes ensnarement that ensues

when angel makes mistake—no going back on fate.

Dates and deaths and births and breaths,

the fall improved but not avoided.

How much happier would we be—brightest one—

if your strength were failing?

Your aim ailing?

What good does the birdhouse when the birds are indecisive?

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