I, Esau Poem by Linda Hepner

I ESAU
The plains, the pulse, the speed
My hair to the four winds
Slapping against my face
My stinging eyes flayed by the flying sand
My race blood racing

And my steed
The best the swiftest
Nostrils steaming,
Neck arching, rearing,
Whinnying ‘Esau! '
I am the winner.

Slam to a stop, Esau!
Whoopying I slap his flanks,
Outflanked my friends
My comrades,
Catching up, but
I Esau

Seize my prize
And gallop home
To show my father.
"Son, " he'll say, "did you go far
Afield, and did you land
A bear, a lion, let my withered hands
Caress your face, your falcon-feathered hair,
Of you I dream
Within my sightless eyes,
My first, my firstborn,
Heir to all, my son,
Red like my blood,
Tamer of tribes,
Tribute to you."

Meanwhile, twin
Trickster my deep brother,
Tied to his dense tent
Will bow to me,
Will dig my wells,
Will serve my slaves
And wives, and grovel
To my gods,
And my mother's
Alien seed in him
Will flee
Back to the static
While I,
Esau,
Will inherit the
Wind.


From Subversive Verse
Parshat Toldot
11/6/18