Two Minutes Thirteen Seconds
By Holly Day

Years later, when all was forgiven, Jacob
would have Esau over for dinner
to share some of the good fortune that continued to come his way
long after one would have expected.
They would sit around their father’s blessing and reminisce
about the good old days, before this thing had come between them
this glistening, sparkling promise of security
that could only be given once, to one person, at one specific time.

Sometimes, when he thought Jacob wasn’t looking,
Esau would try to touch the blessing
would throw pillowcases and handkerchiefs over it in an attempt
to steal it for himself. When this didn’t work, he’d find the solace he sought
in his brother’s wife, late at night. She never minded his rough, hairy hands
the thick pelt of fur on his neck and face,
the odor of goat that clung to his body.
The weight of debt that hung between the two of them
was enough to pacify all of the regret.

Holly Day’s poetry has recently appeared in The Cape Rock, New Ohio Review and Gargoyle. Her newest poetry collections are A Perfect Day for Semaphore (Finishing Line Press), In This Place, She Is Her Own (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press), A Wall to Protect Your Eyes (Pski’s Porch Publishing), I’m in a Place Where Reason Went Missing (Main Street Rag Publishing Co.), and The Yellow Dot of a Daisy (Alien Buddha Press).