He has a secret:
between the morning hours
of two and four he feeds babies
rice from his hands, steaming
fresh, perfectly cooked, each
grain a new word.

Anubis hates his job–
guarding burials, punishing
those who nettle the gods. Bandaging
mummies. If there was choice he
would destroy all mediums
forcing him to play fetch between
life and death.

Feeding babies
is his calm and rest away
from the dead. These little ones
are innocents; keepers
of puzzles and mysteries.