Wonder what went through Isaac’s mind
As he walked back down the mountain
Did he glance sidelong
At his father’s face
Did he wake that night
Heart racing
Sweat pouring down his brow
Imagining the light glinting on the knife
And the rope at his wrists
When his own sons were born
Fighting in the womb
Did he think,
I may pit them against each other,
May tell that soft and sensitive one
To man up like his brother
But at least I never did that
