Pale Woman, Lean Woman

Third Place Eliza R. Snow Poetry Contest

In the husk of bodies

Hunched in the heat

A pale woman, lean woman

Falls by his feet.

The Nazarene passes

Day-weary, drawn,

Flanked by a multitude,

Sandaled and robed;

Her hand reaches out,

Blood-pumping thin,

Pale woman, lean woman

Touches his hem,

Brushes his garment

Skimming the stones,

And his spirit quickens

Her leadlike bones.

Pale woman, lean woman,

Her faith is her plea

As he asks by the roadside

“Who touched me?”