When you fired your mortar

At a child,

Did you know that

An Angel cried?

Enfolding both she and

Her trembling uncle

In astral winds?

Your metallic fist

Thrust aside the

Protective fold,

Opened its fingers

And took the child’s

Tiny hand even as it

Reached for her

Surrogate papa.

Was it only that

Wispy clasp

Of protective love

That shunned the projectile

Deflecting it

From her growing heart?

And the angel cried.

“We have come to close

To the Earth. And

Our wings are spread too thinly.”

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