Angels Wings

I am pondering the nature of 

angels wings.

Fluttery things.

Gossamer 

like powdery moths

or butterflies, 

fluttering by.

Or, feathered like a bird's.

Made to hover and soar.

To glide on the thermals,

higher and higher,

heavenwards.

Not tight skin and bone

like bat's 

or scaly like dragon's.

Prehistoric.

Long before the birds 

and the flutterbies.

But, after than the angels,

later than those fluttery things.

So did the feathers come first

and fall to earth

becoming scales

on the way down.

How far did they fall

before they left heaven 

and hit the ground flying

to metamorphose

and make a scaly shell

of skin ready to burst

and open dustily. 

Powdered.

Clothed.

Scaled like moths

in clouds

of dust

Not so different then

in the scales of things,

those powdered creatures

those fluttery things,

those angels wings.

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