Tuesdays with Erin

Tuesday Morning Sprite
By Erin L. George

She bore an angel
on a Tuesday morning
in September
between cold cries,
scattered sheets,
she pledged
to teach
to soar
sacrifice
for angel
wide white wings
above
a darkened sky.

She combed those wings
mending broken feathers
when little boys at school
spit on him,
cursed his name,
dressing him
in cotton band aides
glued in angel kisses
on a wounded ego
and banged up knee.

She worked two jobs -
a grocery store,
mom and pop,
and spent weekends
selling tomatoes
to lift
her seraph
to a stronger nest
made of sturdy sticks
from a walnut tree
where he learned to read
and told her his dream
of flying.

She soared
to glimpse him fly
upon come back
in a private jet
he’d rented
to take her out
on her birthday
on a Tuesday
in June
above a rainy sky
and blanket clouds
past the school he’d cussed
beyond band aides
and an angel’s wink.

She watched a demon
end his life
on a Tuesday morning
in September
as he used his wings
to take flight
through a sunny sky
feathers all in tact
ending her dream
of an angel’s flight
above
a darkened sky.