THE DARK ANGEL OF ANTRIM by Randall Stephen Hall

There is, in Antrim town

The dark imprint of an angel.

A dusky silhouette

On a gable wall.

And yet, I’m left to wonder . . .

Yonder, at the wall

So tall, this dark stain.

The evidence of such a presence

In this local town.

Lounging by the Six Mile Water.

I ought to make a note

So I’ve pressed my pen to paper.

Thrown my coat in the back seat

And not let the moment pass.

The paper bag

Containing his chips

Dipped in fat and salty confidence.

The evenings optimism

Shielded him, or her

From being “outed” as an angel

Amongst the Friday throng.

Watching the sizzle

And the soaps

All queued up for onion rings

Gravey chips and life on the ropes.

To wrongly assume that

This person, so tall, so tall.

With wings stickin’ out from their shoulders.

Dark with dark hair and ageless older

Should be in fancy dress . . .

Of course!

For what else could it be?

A hungry stripper maybe?

On their way to an early commission.

Just scootin’ in to this chippy

Feelin nippy and on a mission.

Fer convertin’ fish and chips

into the purest of energies.

They lean towards the T.V. screen

And eagerly listen.

Maybe there’s somethin’ exciting happenin’

Somewhere else.

But never round here.

“Not much goin on round here, eh big lad?”

What left it’s mark?

Which dog did bark

At such a sight

As the tall stranger

As he walked through the wall

Full bag of chips, fish and all?

The following day

I bent down to pick up

One of the long dark feathers

From out the gutter

While some neighbours muttered

And murmured on.

“Sure, no one would believe me.

As if I could see angels.

Dark or light, it doesn’t much matter, right?

If one of these were standin’ at my gate

I’d ask him in for a cup of tea.

Offer it gin, right straight I would!

For I’d have some questions for him . . .

Like, where’d my husband go

In Nineteen and Ninety Three?

And, is there life after death

For him and me?”

The dark angel of Antrim.

Still marked there.

Not far from the bottom

of the Greystone Road.

Down past the library and shops.

Take a right down into the town.

Stop before the round-a-bout.

Look back and left

Right there

Is your reward . . .

The Dark Angel of Antrim

Just don’t tell anyone I told you.

www.randallstephenhall.com