“Exodus”

by Sarah Bartlett

                                  So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come forth. . . Matthew 13:49

Feathers riddled the air,
first in great floating clumps;
after wind blew, a lonely white sinking
under gravity’s hand.

Children burrowed naked
and swam their neighbors’ lawns,
grace unleashed frog-style, releasing
limbs with measured strokes

while women watched through windows.
Feeling the heavy responsibility
of food, some moved away,
but others stayed and smiled.

Men who had guns
cleaned them. Men who didn’t
noticed their bodies’ every sound
in the hush.

The news reports were all the same:
feathers falling everywhere.
No one knows why.
No one lied. Everyone wanted home.

The Vatican, Chicago, Manila, all masked
in white, slide-showed across TV screens,
pixels mimicking, for once,
life happening outside.

It only lasted a few hours,
but that was enough.