for the Blue Angel
Oh, Angel, cast upon this sullen hill,
In your pensive gaze, we fall still.
The scepter in your hand, come what may,
Ushers night and summons day.
Amidst decay and fractured shade,
Lives cut short and debts repaid.
Your likeness calls unquestioned grace.
Yet now the scars upon your face.
Your sun-bleached eyes
Betray melancholy surprise.
Cruel time arrives with fiendish trick.
Your world collapses, brick by brick.
Though your perch is wayward and disgraced,
You wear a smile on your face.
Neither Raphael nor Gabriel nor Pinocchio’s saint,
You grant blessings none too faint.
Even as a shopping cart clatters by,
We see a masterwork caress the sky.
Though stone and mortar be your own,
You choose our city as your home.
So much broken glass at your feet.
Still we sing and praise a perfect angel
Rendered in concrete.
Christopher Cipollini is a writer, artist and spoken-word performer originally from Granada Hills, Calif. His first book, The Musings, was published in 2012 and his second, The Secret Kingdom, in 2015. Visit his website at www.chriscipollini.wix.com/poetryandart