When I sit nursing a coffee

in a suburban church basement,

sit on a folding chair unfolded

to the posture of attention,

sit among others, likewise

inclining their ears and hearts,

I hear good people tell

of their calamities. After

seven years in the fellowship,
I found myself still capable
of shock and of surprise
at last night's speaker's story.
And yet, after these calamities,
the triumph. The alchemy!
My fellows and I, we learn,

here, in rooms such as these,

to turn our rusty scrap-metal
into 24-karat gold.