POETRY
Why Lot’s Wife Looked Back
A poem with commentary
Cinnamon in cake — a room —
familiar — coals — that burn —
people — hearth — showers of —
fire — children — laughter—
— the girls — dead now.
There’s smoke. Whistle, warning,
the streets — tea. Not now. Will there
ever — again? That man — who begs —
— fire — frozen — hand out —
Now. Feet. Trample. A dream? Back
before — the street I grew in was —
everything — earth — sea —
bloated — to expulse — bits —
— of body — boiled — a thigh —
— a grave — to die — stone flies —
— blood dries — water sunk —
— fire — my own — dust —
— tears — sun — salt —
Home is — blown to — salt.
I originally wrote this poem to go along with a piano improvisation. Even though I hadn’t thought about the bible in years, the simultaneous feeling of escape and nostalgia reminded me of Lot’s wife from the tale of Sodom and Gomorrah.
