Angel, poem by Dr. Melanie May Bloodgood 1976

Especially she was starred:
above her pink points of her breasts
a mark fearfully bright
was confirmed by the elders of the tribe
after having been thoroughly tested.
She counted on them to clarify
all those who sent caskets of flowers,
but the elders (biblically lecherous)
dilly dallied the score.
With still lifes of candy dusty in dishes
she fortified her door
until no one could phone.
Too far forced, the number was lost
in a box of lacy underthings
and soon they allowed the glass
in her house more strange than ever.
Assured she stood still
all the white cars
long in the drive turned around.
An angel, the ladies over thin red tea
agreed, crossing their ankles at the knee,
smothing the fine print of their dresses.
A nesting bird greyly shook itself out
and commenced again its regular breathing.