Angel

I want to make an angel
in the snow though I am
old for that sort of thing.

That is something I have
never done.  A woman from
Vermont told me about it.

Nobody made slush angels
in Brooklyn…unheard of…
with no meadows to angel in.

We just threw hard packed
snowballs at each other
sliding over icy streets.

Now I will take my pick
of snow.  Find a perfect
field of that lush white stuff.

I will lay down on a cool bed
flapping my arms up and down
to make sacred patterns.

Yes, I will angel away
over and over until finally
I fly off to heaven.

Want to wing it with me?

Joan McNerney

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About Ijagun Poetry Journal

Ijagun Poetry Journal is a quarterly journal that provides a platform from which we can tell our own stories in the authenticity of their multiplicity through the poetic medium. We don’t want to hear these stories from our master “griots” alone; we want to hear from those mastering their art, too. Hence, we aim at publishing new and emerging poets. We also welcome the works of established poets in order to encourage the poetic genius of those mastering poetic art. We prize original works that conform to, break or reinvent conventions. Again, we accept reviews and critical essays on poetry. We also accept powerful art works and photographs that make us appreciate the "poetry" in everything.
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