Michael the Archangel on a platform of the station

Reaching for a tissue, I found him

in the pocket of my coat.

I’d forgotten we’d prayed to him

and I’d do it again in these days

short on light and breath.

But I hadn’t done it,

and now he stood before me

on a platform of the station.

 

Angels go where men won’t go

They come when you’re not there

Pray quick today before they come

For distance makes a safer prayer

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