Another of God’s jokes, we said. A pillar
of salt, a nameless, faceless fact.
Jinxed for her one last backward glance
to where home burned.
One of RE’s more memorable plots. If this
were Chemistry there’d be the formula;
or Geography, erosion (rain and wind),
perhaps what farming and the economy gained.
She got on God’s wrong side: simple enough
and easy (like the apple) for exams.
We’d spill it like dry beans, and pass.
Move on. Nothing to linger with, unless
the business by the daughters (rattled through
just at the end-of- lesson bell). We’d learned
enough to giggle, look away and out
and never think of ever looking back.
previously published in Common Ground, HappenStance Press, 2014