Magdala on the Via Maris
hosted the caravans;
Egyptian traffic glass in ingots,
ivory, lapis, apricots,
papyrus, ostrich-feather fans;
the Magdalenes laid out their fish
for salting near the inns;
behind the fly-specked drying racks
day and night the willing women
catered to the Bedouins; under the towers of the town
the virgins and the wives
spun and wove and dyed the flax
Magdala’s celebrated linen
smooth as young flesh: Crowds of lives
the merchants and maids, the easy girls,
the cityful who spun
who salted fish and maybe one
remembered, and the rest are gone
into oblivion.
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