Crooked angel atop the tree,
Your slanted light shines onto me
Atop my head a halo hue;
A blessing, or a broken fuse?
Crooked angel, so still and white
You brightly shine at bleak twilight,
Between the night and ‘morrow’s day
Your wings have O, so much to say
Of flight into another year,
Of memories in quiet tears,
Of fears and hopes stacked on the shelves,
And spaces made for brand new selves,
Once old facade drifts, lost, behind
And spirit comes revealing mine
Eternal soul come out to play—
In crooked angel kinds of ways.
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