a guardian angel

My grandfather comes down in the kitchen
sees my grandmother cooking breakfast
who are you? he asks her
I’m my dear Alita
that’s a long name
I’m a guardian angel
but you have no wings
that’s why I’m different.

The conversation they repeat
several times a day, a hundred times
and more in the course of time
until a thousand and 2nd time:
my grandfather looks at my grandmother,
holds her hand and smiles,
gazes at her and feels happy,
he doesn’t know why.

4 thoughts on “a guardian angel

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