The Angel and the Watchman

They’re not beings, not agents
At least. They’re rock formations,
Named with what are common nouns.

So now what? The Angel guards
Nothing with no flaming sword.
The Watchman watches nothing.

Speaking on the nouns’ behalf
We’d like to point out no one
Of us is truly common,

Only the phenomena
You use us to clarify
To each other are either

Common, rare, or singular,
And only as you decide,
And those are just more of us

You’ve used to label ourselves.
A common noun can be rare
As a name—a proper name

Is often common, rarely
Genuinely singular.
We like to think the rocks don’t

Care, although you’re made of them
And water and air, offspring
Of rocks who give rocks these names,

But we do, offspring of you.
Among us, the angels are
True kin and friends, the watchmen

As well, and common and rare
And singular are all fine
Terms, welcome here, where we wait,

And watch over each other,
And guard against the stories
That would tear our kin apart.