In memory of Dorothy Parkander, scholar and teacher (1925–2018)

How strong I feel the sun!
I feel the rain some days
That strong. Today is one:

Sunlight has evanesced,
As if itself become
Dark clouds, cold rain, unrest.

I move through this blind day
By words—their small gold glow—
Words treasured, given away

For love’s sake, which still burn
As candles do in church,
Lit each to each in turn,

Flickering, growing faint—
Surviving, almost holy,
In weakness like a saint.

I know rain will efface
More than the sun. But words?
Her words? Always there is grace.