Paper Chooses Paper

I would say if asked, that wooden angels are the best, they age with you, their eyes get dusty, they stand in their stillness while wind and sun bleach them into a gentleness you can relate to. Stone angels slowly turn green, only then you can you detect God working through them. The cashier asks if I want paper or plastic? I am paper choosing paper, mulch returning to wood a natural process. Woodboring beetles have their own tunneling angels, I carry a few on the way home unseen In my new paper bag.