she walked up behind him

                            he was on the porch overlooking the backyard the yellowing apricots a browning walnut an unknown tree they called skinny

she leaned into himfavored his right put her arms around him

                                                                   Coffee’s perking, babe.

distracted Thank you

she lookedsaw his distraction

                                      Is she okay?

I don know 

                            I havent approached her to ask

She looks terribly uncomfortable.

I woudnt think one coud lay on their wings  Birds roost

    She’s not a bird.

She is not

                 She looks stoic

Looks like she’s suffering.

                                       I’d say . . .

Ja

    I’d say . . . submitting.

A submitting angel

                         I shoud go

I shoud go to her                                       

    If she’s willing to talk to anyone she’ll talk to you.

                                                                       she shrugged helpless  he felt it

Nothing against you love

                           I was here when she arrivedwhen she  habituated   the yard

You called it a garden.

I did

          Trees are a garden to me

Then you moved in when I asked if you woud

    She understands I’m not competition, a threa . .

. . I don think human beings can threaten angels

No.    You’re right.

                       You’re going to talk with her.

She saw me when I came out   Turned her head aside  Away from me

You should.

I am

Go ahead.  I started banana bread. I’ll get it into the oven.

                                                                Warm bread buttered coffee when you come in.

Thank you

she went up on her tiptoeskissed him on the cheek

                                                       I’ll seeya in a bit

bit  shorter than they imagined

he went down the steps and began across the lawn to the rock she laid on

                                                                               she didnt look at him pushed herself upright with her wings bruised turned completely awayturned her back on him beat her wings pushed waves of air shorebreaks that repulsed his approach rose above the tops of the apricots beat her wings again dislodging loosehanging leaves soared straightup   disappeared into the unsullied thinlyclouded azure blue sky    

0900,  Sunday,  19  10. 25

D’Angelo  Untitled (How Does It Feel)  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7hbqxnhzU8