Behind the Iron Angel

Behind the iron angel
I stood silent in shadow.
The room bathed in moonlight.
She lay cradled in his arms.
His long awkward limbs,
draped over the chair.
His face,
awash with adoration
as he marveled at her tiny fingers.
Those big blue eyes, soft and overwhelmed,
gazing at her tiny features
and shocking blue black hair.
Etched in my memory,
such a magic thing
was ripe for epiphany.
How the boy that I had known
would be so strong and sure
How choices change the soul.
How great men are made.