The Angel

I’m surprised to discover
the home of The Angel.
Not hidden away at all.

I approach it from every angle
hoping a beam of light
or just the slightest sight
of a feather might catch my eye
and convince me
that an angel really does live here.

Perhaps they’ve just popped out?
I peep through the window.
Looks pretty neat.
And empty.

I go to the front door.
Dare I knock?

There’s a newspaper half sticking out
of the letter box.
Slightly damp from recent rain.

I tug at it.
Out it comes.

It’s the Sunday Express.
‘BORIS TELLS EU: NO MORE CONCESSIONS’
screams the headline.

I’m a bit disappointed.
I wouldn’t have thought an angel
would have wanted that ‘newspaper’
in their home.

But, then again, I know very little
about angels.

Don’t really know what they believe
or who they'd vote for.

And perhaps angels look at everything
from all points of view.
Not easy to do.

I scribble a little note
and pop it through the door:
‘Heaven Help Us.’