The Terrifying Figurine

Very pretty, pretty small
Tchotchke underneath a rock
In the middle of a field

Of irrigated desert
Growing grasses for a herd
Of cattle every winter,

Someone must have placed you there.
But was it someone impish
Who forgot and wandered off?

Or was it one of those types
Who always come back to check,
To see if their gift’s been moved?

It’s not God, it’s human mind
That glints weird little angels.