when angels have their wings cut off
no one smiles anymore and each passer-by
draws in front of their written cardboards sweet messages
others make photos with high-resolution cameras

the whole day the angels sit on the dirty knees praying
with few breaks for drinking from the cup of tears

during the night they gather and warm themselves
for their naked skin is cold and pennons are no more
but pigeons come and go
and drop from beaks fresh olive twigs

in the morning the sidewalk was empty
and puddles brought the rainbow
back to the eyes next
to the sky into
the hearts