Kitchen Poem

The window sits
crooked in its frame
the cat arrives
late for breakfast
one eye on the lost angel
sleeping in my bed
I try to be silent
careful, still dropping
how he crashed
this miracle, this mystery
keeping me up late
giving me turn after turn
like a key he keeps trying
in heaven’s locked door
I wash the dishes
with a crooked smile
the cat keeps watch
and the angel still lies
sleeping in my bed.

***This poem was published in the April 2016 Waterways Poetry Journal!