Paper angels in the parish church <br />Sing like ghosts of insects <br />Escaping cocoons of tissue-shroud, <br />Scaling filaments of spider-web <br />Toward their vault of heaven. <br />Their antennae have looped themselves <br />And fused into haloes, as they rise, <br />Bleached mayflies in a nimbus cloud. <br />Sunlight tickles them into <br />Subsonic stridulations, glorying <br />In their metamorphoses, spiring <br />On glued and crumpled wings: <br />White imagoes on frames of wire <br />Surveying paradise with compound eyes.<br /><br />Giles Watson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/paper-angels/
