by Kelly Eastlund

This is not a poem about angels
though they gather like dusk
around this wrecked planet.

It’s about boxing and dogfights (forgive us)
but also Mozart and Penicillin
and walking on the moon.

This is not a poem about angels
or why they pick and choose,
swooping in randomly.

It’s about the baby who survived
being tossed down a garbage chute
because the compactor was jammed.

This is not a poem about angels
though perhaps they’re just like us,
capable of heroics and blunders.

It’s about humans—
hungry, beautiful creatures
wearing death like invisible crowns.

Kelly Eastlund currently lives in the Pacific Northwest. Her poetry has appeared in Shot Glass Journal, Four and Twenty, A Handful of Stones, and The Queen Bee Collective, as well as the anthology Pay Attention: A River of Stones. You can see more of her work on her blog,