angels in america

you find
the cold annoying
as you walk
the streets in
richmond searching
for your car.
clicking your
key to see a
light go on,
and the streets
are empty except
for students
wandering home,
alone, or with
arms around each
other, in new love.
and your son, in
his group of
friends and comrades
gathered in front
of the small
theater in victory,
the performance as
fresh as the sweat
still on their
brows, their lineless
faces and cheeks
red with joy, these
angels on this january
night. all as one, in
a tight group above
the ground,
living in the beauty
of now, their
lives with so
much to be done
while i walk, and
walk to find my
car in the bitter
cold, to find
my way home.