Evening benediction

Conversation

“Where is that glass of water
I just poured myself?”

I ask the Christmas angel on my mantel.
I couldn’t bear to put her
away with the other decorations.

Because she is made of
metal and glass, she is
very polite, and only
looks down at her trumpet,
not wanting to embarrass me.

A real angel would be bolder.
Not sarcastic, exactly, but
a little bit condescending.
“Where were you when you last
had it, silly girl?” she would say,

Shaking her head but with just
a hint of a smile, so I would know
she really liked me.

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Finding Your Voice Writing CommunityWelcome to the community page for the Finding Your Voice Writing Workshop! Weekly and monthly content for writers who struggle with depression or other mental illness, including writing prompts, exercises, and short talks.By Jessica Kantrowitz