A Poem by Noah Sisson
He had the wings of angels that were feathered softly with light. He blessed me with kindness when all I’d known was fright. What did he see in me, a mere mortal void of grace? What worth did he find in my sobbing, tear-streaked face?
He hugged me close and took my hand saying, “Do not be afraid my friend. This world is cruel to boys like us And it’s hard to know who you can trust. But follow me and we’ll see it all. See, I’m like you and need a friend to call my own.” So, I took his hand and we soared through the heavens, over green mountains and white puffed clouds. My heart started racing while my mind started guessing, “Ok, what happens now?” He said, “This planet has more than grief and heartache, my friend, but that’s all you’ve seen. If you want to go back just say the word and we’ll forget everything.” I grabbed him tighter and gave him a smile I said, “No, I’ll follow your lead. We have the wind at our backs And I promise you, that’s all we’ll ever need.” Holding him close we soared over oceans, we made our course without worry or care. Because no matter the destination, it was better than the damnation of living alone and scared. We landed on an oceanside; I heard his soft wings shifting the sand. When I looked in his eyes, I finally realized that this angel, this boy, would take my loving hand. I said, “Yes this world is cruel For boys like me and you But we have something they’ll never have. A Freak and an Angel, All too relatable, Seemingly brought together by chance. You’ve opened my eyes I’ve soared through the skies And I’m never turning back!” There was some time that we traveled. We saw sights that most never see. But in the end every wonder of the world simply could not compete. Not with his kindness nor his wit, though the latter is dryer than reeds. For a simple life together with him, I would give everything. So we bought a cottage in the country, far from oft traveled paths. In the back I planted a garden, a future to erase my past. The winters we’d spend baking together. He’d make fresh custards, fruit pies, and jams. While I’d create fluffy muffins and tasty gingerbread men. Then in the cozy firelight, after dinner and the dishes were done, I’d snuggle closely into his chest and with his wings he’d keep us warm. He’d sing a heavenly ballad about something; anything I didn’t care what. His loving voice was all I needed, all I wanted in the snow and mud. As gentle snowflakes tiptoed on the window ceil and the scent of evergreen tickled my nose, the world softly waxed by around us, like two squirrels cuddled up close. “Can’t we stay here forever?” I asked, “The two of us snuggling so tight. Let me hold you for an eternity Forgetting about the storm and ice.” He chuckled warmly at my request while delicately fiddling my curls. As I nuzzled deeper into his neck, his laughter lost its control. He laughed, “That’s very tempting dearest But despite your persuasive frill, I wish to see the whole of you Through autumn’s crispness and spring’s swirls.” So we laid there, two souls -two hearts- by the fire Basking in the season of chill. We must have stayed there a century, 20 years, a decade at least, but when my eyes flickered open the next morning, I still felt his soft hand on my cheek. I could not describe how peaceful he looked or how content with us under his wing. All I knew was that this moment was perfect, even with the weather so bleak. The fire sat dead before us, as winter sunlight pierced through the room. A sleeping house on Christmas morning, it was cold, cozy, and new. He wouldn’t wake for some time yet, so I snuggled back into his warmth. I closed my eyes nodding off into darkness, feeling so grateful for the fact I was born. That afternoon we packed ourselves into layers and placed soft mittens over our ears. We downed two cups of hot chocolate before entering that brisk, December air. Wool gloves concealed our fingers as we held our skates close with care. Behind us our sweet cottage faded, a memory and promise shared. The pond was neatly frozen over, just perfect for what we had planned. It took me some practice but with his assistance I found I could balance and stand. The circles we skated and laughs we created made me wish to never again step on land. His gloved hand for me to hold, That raw December cold; It was perfect, he was perfect, A moment of sparkling gold. As we slid across the ice, his wingtips, they left their mark. A delicate portrait meant for gods that pierced its way into my heart. We wove ourselves through snowflakes and smiled amidst ice and bark, from now unto forever may we never be apart!
Noah Sisson is a graduate of Beloit College with a bachelor’s degree in Political Science. While completing his degree, Noah also worked as the News Editor for Beloit College’s student newspaper, The Round Table, where he received training and experience in journalism. Noah found his love for poetry in high school after his poem “Tickets” was published from a writing contest in Eloquence. During his time at Beloit College, Noah continued to write poetry and produced several individual poems as well as small poetry portfolios for various classes.