Harvey S. Mozolak
last night
they sat outside on the rocks
to the side of the tent
the princess of his kingdom
the night’s small lightscould be seen in her eyes
his world there
glistening like an dark wide sea
her feet plowed the sand gently
many of the grains sticking to her toes
she could laugh so
when he tickled them
but that was when they were young
before Haran and the call to leave
and tent among the temporary
inside he could hear Hagar and Sarah
struggling to manage Ishmael’s play
there between the trees
at first like the limbs themselves
strangers coming difficult to see
in the shimmering noon sun
against the ache in his arms and legs
he rose to reverence
invite the favor of their presence
bring water ordered bread
and slaughtered calf
to eat beneath an oak of Mamre
and introduce at their request
the woman at the tent flap listening
his aged
wind-wrinkled wife
who now hardly ever smiles
at God’s pleasure
now invited
to a belly full of giggling
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