Ruben Quesada
Angels in the Sun

                                after Turner



I would have waited alone a thousand

years for the coming of angels,

blinding bright as the spring sun to arrive,


to abandon this world for another.

Stunned by their flashing lights aflame


across the bow of their space craft—landing


lights for that world. Herds of animals:

horses, humans, and fish fixed.

The angels approached.


Come angels! Come beasts!

Men and women cried out

to each other; the angels cried;


some were lost between their earthly life


and paradise and what is paradise, anyway?

Few imagined being bound to this world;


blue halo of emerald mountains;

extraordinary, ordinary—they rose,

a crucifixion yardarm flying away.

Found In Volume 46, No. 01
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  • Quesada
Ruben Quesada
About the Author

Ruben Quesada serves as the Essays Editor for The Rumpus and Senior Editor for Queen Mob’s Teahouse. He has received fellowships and residencies from the Red Lodge Clay Center, Lambda Literary Writers Retreat, Napa Valley Writers’ Conference, Vermont Studio Center, Santa Fe Art Institute, Squaw Valley Community of Writers, and CantoMundo.