Challenge
Challenge of the Month XXXVII
Give us one page of a book, story, or poem of yours. If it's a poem, it can be up to two pages. We don't care if it's already something you posted. For the big, fat $100, put up your picked page or poem. Winner will be chosen by Prose.
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Ecclesiastes 1:18
The angels of memory never were.
Wings were shadows, smiles were
toothy grins.
That halo was the glint and glimmer of a glamour,
spells woven,
magic cast.
But the incantations were real.
How else to explain disappearing
into air
so
thin--
breath barely catches?
Penitence and sin, forgiveness and spite,
our communion was
a twilight mass
in the shade of live oaks
on
a bed of dead leaves.
Sweet southern sunshine,
whispers of heaven
held back by leather and lace--
these were the prayers.
The angels of memory never were.
Devils are in details,
and I
remember those
better than most.