Not much of him was mine to love, 

but whatever was left, I took it gladly. 

The part of him that even his fierce god 

could not consume, his sister’s tongue 

scald, his own rage blister. In my arms 

he was allowed to be an ordinary man, 

uncertain, clumsy. Born an outsider, 

walls on either hand, grateful to belong. 

And so was I, startling myself with 

soft singing in the tent, like a long 

forgotten balm of rain. He smiled

in his red beard, a rusty quirk of mouth,

naming me desert lark, Sinai rosefinch, 

laughing dove. I sang only for him,   

sharing the morning’s manna or a lull 

in the simoom. Little more than that.

We flew together when we could, 

no stammered demands, no carving 

in stone words good enough to bear 

the weight of centuries. Listen, I said, 

we are one. I give you all my heart, 

my soul, my strength. It was enough.


Note: Zipporah was the wife of Moses

Kristin Camitta Zimet

Kristin Camitta Zimet is the author of Take in My Arms the Dark and the editor of The Sow’s Ear Poetry Review. She has poems in journals and anthologies around the world. Her newest manuscript gives voice to characters in Torah. She is also a visionary photographer.

Seasons In My Life