The sun had disappeared
Leaving clouds to hold in their hands
   the last fragments of light
   like a bouquet putting forth one last fragrant bloom
 
And I descended the trail
   towards home
So many descents these last months
   they didn’t leave me feeling home, those descents
 
‘Pssssst. Pssssst,’
A nudging whisp brushed my shoulder
So I turned
And there they stood
 
I started to count,
‘1, 2, 3-4-5, numbers fading into the many before me.’
They stretched effortlessly upward
   the very tips of their needly heads
   carrying a prayer for me.
 
For me.
Ascending.
   They had my back
   They had my future.
 
Wordlessly I leaned into them
 
With a nod they let their garments fall away.
All of them.
Like they had planned the surprise for this moment.
 
Each,
each was an angel.

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