While sitting on the rock by the beach,
feeling the cold November air chill
me to the bones,
I noticed The Angel of Death
pass over in a low,
gray, cirrus cloud.
Ripples immediately moved across the lake,
and the crow was silenced.
I waited for the Angel
to take my soul
and leave my limp, lifeless body
on the rock.
But, he continued on his way
and left me in my silent
peaceful reverie of Autumn.
(see Carry on Tuesday prompt
"In the arms of an angel"
for even more angels!)
