Autumn in Paris, Texas:

The Evangelist Sees

by Stephen M. Sanders

My hosts had refurbished
everything in the house:
all three stories were full
of long-planked, hardwood floors;
plastered ceilings; quiet parlors.

Saturday night,
I studied my sermon by antique gaslights
whumphed to glowing at a pop
of a switch, and bathed in a white
cast-iron bathtub that submerged
me to the nose.

As I waited for worship
services the next morning, I climbed
the staircase to the attic and stood
at its long, northern, narrow
window. Beyond—gold
trees, empty streets, farther
north: the church.

I touched the October glass, waited
for the cold to feather
my fingertips, and pulled back
my hands to watch
the condensation decay
from the glass. Where

my hands had been, I saw the church engulfed
in sunrise, orange and red streaks
were painted in steam
across the crackling pane.

An elderly couple waited
at its front door. They were early, eager
to enter--anxious to enter deeper the flames
each breath stoked into the glassware
ghosts of hands:

turning each palm
into a furnace;
each finger, a flame.

---

Stephen M. Sanders is an assistant professor of English at South Plains College in Levelland, Texas. He has had poems included in publications including Pacifica Literary Review, Penumbra Literary & Art Magazine, and the Austin International Poetry Festival di-vêrsé-city anthology. His first novel Passe-Partout was published in 2019 (Monument Place Books).