The sun came out over the Rapture,
smoking like warm forgiveness.
There were still lawnmowers and no storms spilled from the sky—
thunder did not crash like dropped violas.
Little signs of continued suburban life
sprinkled the afternoon.
Dogs can’t bark in heaven,
so they do it here.
An RV continues to crowd the narrow concrete path to the rusted mailbox.
Bird excrement slimes down stucco walls, painted ivy dark-green-meets-white.
Heaven does not come to suburbs or cities.
Heaven stays up there, safe from normalcy.
Amen and Amen.
Stephanie Renae Johnson is a graduate of Flagler College and she earns all of her money as a Production Artist for Xulon Press. Her work has been published by the lovely folk at Literary Tonic, Poeticdiversity, Opium Poetry, The Flagler Review, and the Orlando Sentinel online. She was previously the intern and minion for Ampersand Books.