Poem | Widow of Zarephath

i was like a small bird

            pecking near a gate

            when i went in search of twigs—

            a bit of wood for a fire

so after one last meal

my son and i could die...

then a man asked for water—

                        a bit of bread

                        now i, a small bird,

                        found more than twigs

                        because i too, like ravens, fed him



Published in the June 1, 2014 issue: 

Lou Ella Hickman, IWBS, has worked as a teacher, librarian, and parish adult-education director. She is now a spiritual director and freelance writer.

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