In spring it could have happened another way.
But now the edges of shortening days
draw together their sunlit corners,
sheets to be folded away for winter.
Night and day look at each other as equals.
The path splits like a serpents tongue
and we take the darker one, less travelled,
that ends with the apple falling in our hand
We all know what they lost in the darkness.
But not how Eve felt when knowledge emerged
like stars from under the ignorant light.
Or why God made temptation ripen
on the cusp of the seasons as though
he wanted us to choose the night.
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