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3 Poems of the Old Testament photo

Eve Thinks

This tree 

is a braid pulled taut, 
held up and away 
from the nape of the earth.

It is tree-brown. 
It is tree-green. 
Its fruits are apple-red. 

Its words are sparse. 
But its dappling 
is a sort of Morse 

I think I understand.



I never understood your fate, or how
if time is an arrow, it strikes
late, if at all. I have known 
a hunger I would undo
my own good birth to sate
as well. The clock yokes 
all who walk the thick
meal of earth, so why—why 
are we to hate you? I too 
have known trickery, sunk 
in the warm salt bath of a lie, 
the desire for vengeance 
a pillar of fire swording 
the brown land of my chest. Prince, 
I commiserate and curse 
how if time is an arrow, it strikes 
us in the back. I never understood 
a word.


Bathsheba, to David


You drew me down this 
path, how I have drawn the dark 

waters about my bath, like 
a candle in the black 

jar full of tar—which is 
night turned wound, 

when you ashed the fire of 
my star: my love for whom 

I washed.