I could sit here and hunt for dawn
comes easily these days
or sleep my way to Jericho again

Where Moses’ daughters rise
a cunning school for love’s diplomacy
and otherworldly wisdoms all combined

they let me in some nights
let me interrogate them
in my broken Hebrew to learn how,

just how.  For they know everything
again.  Small school all white adobe
shadowy within, we see by skinlight,

read by the light left in our eyes
by years of looking outward.