My wife always says that an angel fell to Earth is fair game, for anyone,
so on the day we found a golden glow-worm in the garden
we resolved to guard it with our lives.
It grew quickly into a child with a face of wisteria and piercing blue eyes,
weaving up through rosewood and gilded glass to stare at the sky.
A few days had gone by when it attempted to fly, its tawdry tawny wings
reprimanding its own might. We fed it ambrosia and left it in the light
until our homegrown heaven’s homecoming was truly nigh.
And as it spirited away to its pride of place, it looked back at us with clear sight
and that look alone told us to never fear the night
while the Watcher was looking over and making things right.