They slip in late, Sunday morning worship,
far back pew, corner niche, space for one penitent,

“Lord, have mercy,” not what one could anticipate
from angels, even one with wings furled,

hugging its body as if a non-person from the streets,
which it is of course, the ragged blanket both comfort

and disguise for the canopy of stars, the lining
reminder even angels need to recall

their fallen estate, requiem of repentance
and renewal, only a little higher than flesh and blood,

the Son of Man‘s,^ taken on, broken and shed
for such humans as the offering taker transfixed,

extending the plate as if he has seen the wink of stars,
a gift he receives like the opening of the angel’s

cupped hands, not so much in prayer as
pouring out the seven pennies

for the man unable to move on, having
glimpsed what he understands he cannot earn,

especially the smile, no, the grin
of this Easter morning messenger.

Biblical References:

* Hebrews 13: 2 (KJV)
^ Mark 10: 43-45 (The Jerusalem Bible, Doubleday & Company, 1966)