our job was mostly to witness the miracle
without intervention

But I also remember, mother, the heifer
too deep in mud to move

She worked herself into that suckhole
up to her chest, head and tail

thrashing all morning until she expired
in the heat of the afternoon

You watched from behind the screen door
shading your eyes as I raced astride the buckskin

to fetch father from the fields to rescue that cow
from Yahweh's terrible hunger, knowing in my heart

the Old God must still be angry
angry maybe because I turned against my father

angry maybe for my loving the earth too much
and losing sight of heaven

We didn't know how a hard knot on the family tree
was growing heavier in you by the day, mother,

hardening like a boil, hunching you over
with dead weight and how the sky

was suddenly empty of moon when my brother
went from the womb to the grave

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