Wise Poets – Claudia Serea – Parallel Heavens

Claudia Serea

Doors closed,
lawns freshly mowed,
the heavens line up,
a row of suburban houses
on a quiet street.
I imagine mine painted white,
silent and sleepy,
a provincial art museum
where all the angels have been assigned
to perpetual paperwork.
One can’t even think
to jump from one heaven
into another
without wings,
or breaking a bone.
And each heaven
has its own way to get to it
on parallel stairways,
steps, and ladders.
The old man sets the ladders against the walls,
side by side.
From here,
we can only go up.