Angel In a Book

It cost all of fifty cents This treasure from a far New York, Its derivation Emily Dickson its creation I read her poems in awe One by one I turn her page Then came across the pencil draw An angel sat upon “A little road not made by man “ A masculine Yet feminine This angle from afar Not standing Walking Flying Beautiful yet haunting Contradicting in all its light This angel of the night I wonder about its pose Prose Its purpose on the road I place it back, hence it came Upon the road, not made for mode Ever I lay my eyes on its pages I make sure to sight the angel Upon a little road “A little road not made by man “ Emily Dickinson