Women’s Work
by Carson Cawthon
WOMEN’S WORK
Fallen onto straw, matted in blood,
The Word was borne into the world
because there was a woman,
who broke herself to make room for more.
Perfume intermingled with
rusty nails was the
breeze from the body
because there was a woman
who washed His feet.
A tomb, discovered empty,
spices scattered in haste,
news for the brothers
because there was a woman
who rose early one morning.
His garb remains unblemished
by that holy wine,
mixed with river life
every Sunday
because there is a woman
who washes the robes.
All the ways we
pretend not to see
that preaching the Gospel
has always been women’s work.
CARSON CAWTHON
Carson Cawthon studies English at Anderson University in South Carolina. She has previously been published in Calla Press, The Fallow House, The Clayjar Review, and other literary journals. Her work explores what it means to come of age as a woman in the American Southeast, a region steeped in religious tradition and haunted by its history. You can keep up with her on Instagram @carson_cawthon.