Zarephath

Zarephath

Amy Frykholm

And so I came out--
a fallen star
a liquid trail of memory--

Empty. Emptied.
but not so much that
I could not reform
the shape of my light.

You sent me to a woman
who had not spoken
of her sorrow.

I called to her:
Flour. Bowl. Oil. Cake. 

Together we sang a new song,
singing as waves do.

---

Amy Frykholm
Poet & Editor

Amy has been published in Quiddity, Soundings, and The Christian Century. Her most recent book is Wild Woman: A Footnote, the Desert, and My Quest for an Elusive Saint. You can read more of her work at amyfrykholm.com.

Photography by Cole Keister