DIKKOPS

Coming up from the bottom gate
through the darkening garden
I am accosted one evening
by two angels.
          A prickle of panic
and then I see -
that they are grounded angels
         fearsome, hissing,
         with pearly wings outspread.
 
They have gathered all the last light
into themselves -
they glimmer through the encroaching dark
standing sentinel
to right and left of me
guarding their trysting place.
 
I try to project reassurance, to send them love,       
but they are having none of it.
         This is their space
         and I the clumsy intruder
         on their conversation. I tiptoe on
         to safety, feeling
         such tenderness towards them
 
Knowing that they have learnt through millennia
that I can’t be trusted.
 
 
Jane Fox
(August 2024)