Genesis

Downstream from where the girls come to bathe

I lift rocks to stir the janga,

casting my net and a hopeful eye

toward the pool where she stands, like Eve,

glistening in sunlight and water.

We have danced this dance of coincidence before.

*

As if she weren’t perfection and purity,

she makes a pageant of washing her figure; firm,

rivaled only by the salute of my flesh,

hard, blue; like the mahoe tree.

I am Adam and her presence beckons.

Together we could populate the earth.

*

My catch is small; my desire on a grander scale.

Hefting my pail and net, I wade to the shore

as she does, on a trajectory towards life.

We’ve danced this dance before, but only as prelude.

Today, the taste of creation permeates the air.

Our eyes touch and Eden is born on the riverbank.

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[Author's Note: This poem was first published in 2009 in the journal, tongues of the ocean (Bahamas).]