Death of the Everyday Angels

Souls on the grass
one hand grasping
toward heaven
the other clinging to
a savior

car seats empty waiting
for the daily drive
pictures never framed
laundry left to fold
leftovers shoved on fridge shelves
sun rising without
alarms snoozes coffee toothpaste

only the moonrise
realizes their ascent
and no longer waits
stars light the heavens
in open-armed embracing
leaving us looking up
both hands
grasping clinging
for tomorrow.

Nikki Lockhart