Without believing, I let out
Prayers like popcorn
Begging for angels to be real.

After the darkness and the quiet,
small stones of ceiling plaster
continue to fall
Teeth from heaven.

I am covered.
the roof and floor
groan for me.
my prayers are softer now,
each one a surprise.

Cindy Cherry grew up in Northern Mexico and the Southwest. She writes poems and stories in her head, while walking a labyrinth with her two dogs. She also loves her job working with blind infants; teaching them new ways to “see”.