Lot’s wives

God has burnt
us down so
many times while
we run screaming
from the flames.
But we are
no phoenix rising
again. We always
turn to watch
the walls fall,
the golden licking
up of sky.
It is done.
We freeze: columns
of salt. Rain
comes, melts away
regret for what
cannot be gotten
back. Earth turns
saline swallowing us.
Years pass before
we grow again:
tall trees some
man will harvest
to build his
city. If only
we would stop
turning to see
turning to grieve
turning to leaves,
perhaps we could
find out who
we could be,
stop following him,
walk quietly away,
while Lot keeps
running, too weary
to stop to
chasten or save.


4 Responses to “Lot’s wives”

  1. Nun in abiding says:

    I must say, though so hard to choose, this is my favorite work of yours. Maybe because I had these stories told to me thousands of times and foolishly believed I would never be one to look back.
    Here, though, am I, nearly eroded enuf to fit in a salt shaker and he has not yet missed me.

  2. Gregg Geisendorfer says:

    Miss Rachel,
    This is outstanding expression! Your’e pain and suffering shared are courageous. There is hope. I’ve read three of your poems and have to digest them , mentally. You have even inspired me to go back and review my own sophomoric. talents.
    Your legacy, as is mine, is best expressed in our children. They are the best expressions and summations of life; indeed love expressed and fostered in a child is the most high and sacred duty.
    Thank you. Appreciate your time.
    Gregg S. Geisendorfer

    • wordweed says:

      Thanks, Greg! I’m happy to hear you feel inspired to begin writing again.
      Yes, I’ve always felt that my kids are living poems, full of complexity and beauty. I’m so grateful for them and that I have the opportunity to learn from them and teach them at the same time. What a calling!

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