angels in disguise

I went to live once in a big city that was once
   a small city with trees and flowers and sparkling
fountains, with water that never tells a lie.
   Then, because I was called upon, I moved 
                to a small town with a river that flowed
   backwards. This petite village, with a room
so small I hardly had space for my blue wooden
   writing table with the two chairs, on which one
                was waiting for a stranger to call by with stories
   to tell. It has been written, so now it is I 
write it myself. ‘Always be kind to a stranger, 
   she may be an angel in disguise’.

michael harlow