Joseph's Silence

I have no words.

Once, when calloused hands stripped

the robe from my back,

seized and threw me into a pit,

I struggled, yelled and called for help;

but now, in the pit

of Egypt, after her hands stripped

the robe from my back, I flee

my master’s house and hide

among rushes at the river’s edge,

shivering, but not from cold.

I utter no call for help –

who would believe a slave’s word?

I have no confidant, no friend

to whom I can tell the truth.

Were my dreams mere childish dreams?

If caught, will I be killed,

with no stars, no moon, no sun?

Alone, I watch black beetles creep

and scuttle through the undergrowth.

I want to – yet cannot – weep.