Dwight Stevers: Poetry

	Poetry
	Dwight Stevers

A Memory
I remember the sunset of a life over trees and buildings caught on the edge, a whisper. Light on a pane, the light of pain. I am undistanced, moving. As I have moved through each, puzzles emerge with clarity. Enigmas tenuous between dimensions. I caught the sunrise of a life hot white with memory. A cast of several thousand delivering all my needs. A sorcerer, the source, sorted out. One doorway between two pairs of pillars, cast in stone. Nothing so permanent as a word can penetrate this soulful union. Nothing so fleeting as regret can shift this faith to belief. In this life I remember all.

A Memory

I remember the sunset of a life
over trees and buildings
caught on the edge, a whisper.
Light on a pane, the light of pain.
I am undistanced, moving.
As I have moved through each,
puzzles emerge with clarity.
Enigmas tenuous between dimensions.
I caught the sunrise of a life
hot white with memory.
A cast of several thousand
delivering all my needs.
A sorcerer, the source, sorted out.
One doorway between two pairs
of pillars, cast in stone.
Nothing so permanent as a word
can penetrate this soulful union.
Nothing so fleeting as regret
can shift this faith to belief.
In this life I remember all.

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