The Feather Driving through Ohio I think it was, my wife And I passed an angel On the side of the road. Bad luck leaving an angel Hanging, my wife said, Which, fair enough. We had a heck of a time Fitting her in, what with Those big wings of hers. Sort of pinkish-bluish. It gave me a weird feeling Touching them, like when I touched my father’s face Where he lay in the coffin. My mother told me to, Said it would be the last Time, that I’d be sorry. Every time I looked up In the rearview they were All I saw.
yes. a good one. i will carry the feather to bed tonite.
Loved this one! Imagined observation works.