At age six, Miryam is in charge
of the baby
every time
the overseers come.
Behind the hut three families of Levites share
there’s a ditch she and Aaron used to dare each other
to jump over—before the order that brought
her jumping days to a close. Now she lowers
herself down between its muddy sides and tries
to keep the little one still, and still, until
they can rise.
Once, two overseers
passed right over—
she held the baby’s warm body close,
let him suck helplessly against her arm
to keep him from crying,
while she shared her silent terror
with her people’s half-forgotten
God.
Once, the baby did cry.
And Miryam, trembling, heard her mother
in the distance beg the Egyptians
to let her husband leave his work
and go hunt the birds she heard calling
from t
