The
Hospitality of Abraham
Three travellers ride through
deserted streets where no stranger
comes. Doors sneak shut, bolts slip
into place. Curtains twitch,
a half shadowed face holds
its breath as they clatter by.
Headgear like bandages
reveals only their eyes;
their saddles spiky with gifts
or weapons. Are they following
a star, or looking for trouble?
They say nothing, give nothing away.
Under an oak tree they finally
dismount. Within a tent an old woman
lets out a high girlish laugh. A calf
nuzzles for milk. An old man gazes
into an obscure future which is about
to stride into view and sit at his table.