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Conversation with an Angel Part 1

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Below is the poem entitled Conversation with an Angel Part 1 which was written by poet michael hornschuch. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Conversation with an Angel Part 1

                                                    Conversation with an Angel

I live in an average neighborhood, in Colorado Springs. I like to refer to my street as
the ‘all American street’. Most of the homes in my neighborhood were built between the
1890’s and early 1930’s. Our yards are reflective of our personalities, so I believe. An
eclectic mosaic of manicured and not so manicured lawns, xeriscaped, not so xeriscaped
yards fill the view as one drives down the road.  
We still say hello as we pass by, and many walk our dogs or just enjoy the company of a
loved one for an evening stroll. With Pike’s Peak as our back drop I think most of us feel
blessed to call our neighborhood home. 
One night while out walking about an hour before dusk, I noticed something not quite
right. A little out of place if you will; between the road and the sidewalk is a section
of yard for each home, about 10 feet from sidewalk to curb, with Elms and Oak trees
agelessly garnishing the street, I happened to notice a man about two blocks ahead, bent
down ‘doing something’ quite contently. Nothing out of the ordinary, I guess I was just
fixed on the length of time he was bent down. As I approached, I imagined what he was
doing, “an injured pet maybe or damaged sprinkler head”. As I came closer I noticed he’d
look up in my direction, and back down again. I had a sense that whatever it was he was
doing; he wanted to be done before I arrived. I picked up my pace, more curious than
worried. Finally, as I crossed the next street; he was within ears shot of a quick
“hello”. He looked up and nodded back, then down again at whatever he was doing. I could
make out his features and knew he was ‘not from around these parts’. It was summertime,
and his appearance was quite disheveled. His face was unshaven, not a beard, but a few
days growth, wrinkled and tanned as if he’d been homeless for a while. His hair was
tousled, bleached from the sun with wisps of gray. I found it odd, that he had on a long
tan rain coat, blue jeans and sandals with no shirt underneath.

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  1. Date: 7/25/2011 10:24:00 PM
    Got my Interest--Well written piece. And thank you for your generous placing of my Poem in your contest.