by Lisa Zimmerman
Don’t mistake the washed yellow room for heaven.
Don’t assume those are angels
reclining in chairs. What if you drink
the stirred gold potion? Alchemy
is a lie, a marvelous skill. A mistake
is not necessarily a sin. Be a witness.
Take note of the little black ship
on the tilted horizon. Hear the pitiful
sweet cries of the drowned.