Lot’s Wife

by Ann Boaden

A wave leaped from the Dead Sea,
stilled to salt, shaped like a woman
head turned: so science explains
a world’s strange thing. A people’s strange story.
But salt was precious then. Salt flavored life.
Salt routes were potent ways. Why fashion salt into the shape
of punishment for looking back
on something loved? What if the old legend saw it more
as distillation of our tears
for all the good we had and lost?
Maybe such tears acknowledge grace.
Salt shines like jewels in sun. We are to be
salt and light. Maybe a salt statue rises
shining in our darkness, lest we forget
how to remember.