The Angel of Narcissus
I strike a pose,
so high above you all,
so wise and stern,
and all who see me crane and yearn
to view the words I write.
“Is my name on your list?”
you wonder, your uneasiness
creating flurries in the air
around my stony soul.
The stone mason’s chisel
does my fair proportions justice,
but he carefully omits
what flows from my pen:
buy milk, suntan lotion,
start the laundry,
mail the rent check,
put out cat,
pick up Jean at 3.
This statue of an angel, in the cemetery in Framingham, Massachusetts where Christine's mother is buried, is the prompt for the Invitation to Poetry from Abbey of the Arts.
