Abraham
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.
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Author's Note
This poem first appeared in Midstream in 1985
Lake Kinneret = Sea of Galilee
I lived in Israel for four months in 1973-74
This poem appears in Blasphemer (Lit Fest Press 2015).
Other stories by Bill Yarrow
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Takes me some place I've never been without telling me too much - favorite:
I walk toward walls.
The late sun enters my skin
like the blade of Isaac's knife.