Opinion 9

"After the Great Divorce"

Adam took the train to Nod.
Eve called her mother who drove up
From Ur, comforting, chatty, “forget
That bastard anyway”.

They saw each other again
At the funeral. Cain killed Abel,
Broke his mother’s heart. She shrieked, graveside
Adam too scared to hold her.

There was a dispute, meat, fruit.
Blood is not as thick as honor
But there is more of it to spill, wet
The ground with parent's shame.

At the reception they looked
Dead. Old Adam. Old Eve. He, shamed,
Addressed her, “Do you miss the garden?”
“What garden? That old dump?”

He flinched. She wilted. They drank
Adah’s wine from stone trays, looked on.
Eve had started smoking. She offered him
The reed. “Do you smoke now?”

He coughed and laughed, said something
Clever about the Tigris, how
It used to move past their house, graceful, smooth,
Sultry in Eden’s sun.

“Do you talk to Him?’ she asked.
“Who?” Adam played dumb, his old sin.
“Him, the Man, the Master Gardener.
Have you two spoken since?”

Adam paused and shifted, sat
On stone seat, head tilted, eyes down.
Then up: “It’s too hard now. I tried once
But then couldn’t understand.”

Eve exhaled white smoke, nodded
“Yes, his words don’t fit my ears since
Babel, that’s all I hear, too loud or
Soft – I don’t know which, no –“

Lamech interrupted.
Violent, belching, stumbling drunk.
“Hear my voice, you wives!” he cried, then fell
Off his stone. Eve and Adam

Broke off, quit the talk and went
Slowly to the door. Turning right
Went Eve, pregnant with dim, ancient light.
To the left, Adam, still lost.