by Troy Reeves

Lydia knew the cost of her trade,
the dangers run, the effort made
to purchase the purple dye required
to keep the rich properly attired.
She knew the Phoenician sailors’ fear,
the tackle and trim and all the gear
needed to make the sea snail yield
the purple pearl God tightly sealed
inside its shell: pliers to crack
the humble beast’s knuckled back,
nails to pierce the ink-filled pouch,
and wooden pigeon holes to couch
the vials rocking on highways home
to Phillipi, Smyrna, Athens, Rome.
She knew the permanent purple stain
on the walls of vats cut to retain
the dye, and the fragile wooden props
from which fell the precious drops
that, striking the yellow dust, gave birth
to colors yet unknown on earth.
And, knowing common cloth will take
on richness for a good dye’s sake,
she led her family to the river’s side
to be bathed in the blood of the Crucified.

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Troy Reeves resides in Nixa, Missouri, with his wife, Susie. Following his retirement from Angelo State University, where he taught for 33 years, the couple relocated to Nixa. Troy’s poetry has been featured in esteemed publications, including Christian Century, Dappled Things, America, and Anglican Theological Review. In his free time, Troy enjoys reading, taking long walks, playing ping pong, and volunteering at his local church alongside Susie.