My Guardian Angel

Abigail Hagler

I don’t have one.
But I imagine his voice, singing
O Bel’ Alma Innamorata
And I am Lucia, utterly beloved

Then his softest feathers dry my eyes
And firmer ones take my arm
We dance till I am Zizi Jeanmaire
Lovely as he knows I want to be.

When I am shy he twinkles
And I am fine again
If I hurt, his strongest wings
Lift me to where pain no longer weighs

But he’s not here.

I hear Lucia and cry alone.
I see the ballerina—
I am not of that cloth
But want a strength beyond my own.

That would be him.
But he’s not here.

Abigail Hagler

Abigail Hagler is a retired physician who has been writing poems and essays forever. She also writes pro bono for a humanitarian organization.


I don’t have one. But I imagine his voice, singing O Bel’ Alma Innamorata And I am Lucia, utterly beloved Then his softest feathers dry my eyes And firmer ones take my arm We dance till I am Zizi Jeanmaire Lovely as he knows I want to be. When I am shy he twinkles And …

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