A Poem for Joseph and His Brothers
It wasn’t the colourful coat
or even Joseph’s dreams that tipped the balance.
Maybe it was the day—too hot,
or maybe just the fact that there was a pit.
If the traders hadn’t happened by
they would have all had supper together,
Reuben’s voice as eldest
would have decided the outcome.
But instead the cup of resentment,
filled drop by drop for years,
is drained in one sudden act of violence.
The deal is done, the money changes hands