by Wes Biggs All rights reserved

Maybe it was a choir of angels,

crystallized through the low band,

2 AM,

and echoing through the dead streets,

downtown Los Angeles --

Maybe it was in that solemn harmony,

that chorus of screams forming a single whisper,

where I first dared to behold beauty

Just as, beholding beauty, I dared to hold you.

Maybe those notes, humming to the traffic signals,

Greenlit my path through the pavement

and filtered down the alleyways,

Every streetcorner repeater in the city grid

Signalling my change of heart.

And maybe it was, all along, my heart,

Not the speakers, not the streetlights nor shadows

Conducting that symphony of sweet voices

Concocting that serene serenade

Arranging that choir, los angeles, the angels.

For in their solemnity, I knew that I felt joy,

In their chastity, I knew that I felt love,

and in their solitude, I knew that I would never be alone.

*written for Sarah and read during their June 20, 1998 wedding ceremony.