• Anxious Poets Society

The Slow Angel

The Angel of Death doesn’t have wings. He’s the only angel not in a hurry.

He’s no blood-hound stalking my scent with a snarl and gnashing teeth.

He’s detached. Almost bored.

He tails my car as I shuttle myself to the office, the gym, the grocery.

I’ve caught him yawning in my periphery, to say, "Your middling existence warrants no haste.

Don't lose sleep over Death. You've been dead for years. My message is redundant; a formality, really."


Daniel R. Jones is a writer from Indianapolis, IN and he received his MFA from Lindenwood University. Daniel has been published on various platforms including Aphelion, Black Rabbit Quarterly, Parody Poetry, the South Bend Tribune, In the Bend, StarLine, and Time of Singing. He was a 2017 nominee for the Rhysling Award with the Speculative Fiction Poetry Association and won an award for best poem in the 2013 edition of Crossings, Bethel College’s Literary Journal.

#angel #death #wings #blood #detached #existence

14 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All