by Bill Yarrow
I came late to sunrise. The hills were lit
with goats. Everything shimmered in
small steps. I closed my eyes.
The Kinneret sits back in its water
waiting to be made to shine.
My blood is like the sea.
Jerusalem against the sun. People
draw lots for the shadows
and put down spears.
I walk toward walls.
The late sun enters my skin
like the blade of Isaac's knife.
All rights reserved.
This poem first appeared in Midstream in 1985
Lake Kinneret = Sea of Galilee
I lived in Israel for four months in 1973-74