Angel of the Odd - Revis

He started out just gathering up
All the lost socks, orphaned
In the laundries of the world.
Then, his solicitude expanded.
Gently, he cradles
Wounded souls
Broken hearts
He whispers,
“In some other
Time and place
You would have been
They king, or queen.
You are not odd-lots,
You are jewels,
Lost from matching sets
In the tumblers of
The world.”