A dizain written while ill with pneumonia (in 2001)

I am seeing almost angels here tonight.
As my fever climbs the ladder they applaud
and microscopic fires inside me light
up faces looking something like the Lord
that I draw from mirror images I’ve stored.
I fill their features in and we embrace.
They lift me up and lead me as we trace
remembered dance steps to a flatted tune
they say is normal where we are in space.
I’d rather live a while, at least till June.