The Forgotten Angel

She lay asleep in the midnight dew,

Her eyes flung open when she heard the crow caw.

She felt alone, rejected and forgotten.

All she can do now is wait, wait for morning to come.

Quiet as a mouse, delicate as a bird and swift as a shadow, she moves.

Her tender eyes begin to water as she spies a child and his parents walking past her in the cold rain.

She shivers as the boy looks up at her to touch her cold, lifeless fingers.

It begins to thunder and lightning, like a bomb exploding in the Revolutionary War.

She turns to see a graveyard in the distance.

Once inside its courtyards she looks around.

She touches the piercing cold, ceramic stone statue's hands.

One by one she glances back swiftly, in fright that someone will see.

Then she stumbles upon her own dwelling and lies down, feeling almost secure.