Here comes that dreamer (Genesis 37:19)
We never threw our brother
into a well, but coveted
his stories and dreams,
which coaxed smiles
from our tired mother and father.
We kept watch on each other
and tallied who won extra
slivers of cake.
Perhaps it was birth
order, how we lined up
on the chessboard
with few, limited moves.
We learned to conceal
envy, stiffen our bodies.
If only we’d known
how much moves,
how feelings arise and swell
then break, receding
into calm. If only
we’d learned to speak
of wind and waves,
how they might smash
our array
of stiff forms
that feared touch,
believing myths.
