epiphany

Happy Birthday, Joan of Arc.
Your angels are radiant tonight.
Your gold faced supplicants,
even your judges-one of whom,
it's said, stood breath-close
to the witches he was meant to condemn
fingers intertwined
held, holding.

It would have been enough,
   Ruth said,
to have only seen the angels.
It would have been enough

to have only seen Ruth.