The heated flush of noonday walking,
lukewarm water, dried meat. Bundled sticks
set aside. The redundant question, where
is the sacrifice?
Silence. A hedged truth.
Everyone here knows.
Obedience always, always.
Even now the head is bent
in deference before
the father’s knife.
The sun is blinding.
Life never belongs
to the self. There’s only
the cut of stone
against the back,
thinking
God
God
God