I came up Rodeo Road to Yucca Street
and there they were, reminders of what
I wasn't really sure. But the big yellow
cutouts of wings were riveting with
the late afternoon singing
behind them, and who can deny
Halloween in mid September, candied truth
according to anyone who cares to listen in.
I was never quite so saved until I was startled
into staring into the light of three angels
on stilts, silent as mass in a playground when
attendance is limited to the sane.
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