I like to think of him in the Garden, lonely
without yet knowing what loneliness is.
He moves with a stride unencumbered
by gravity.

Or waist high in ferns
though sometimes I hope
a little gust of wind
parts the green curtain.

His chest is smooth.
His nipples in proportion.

I’m talking about the time before
Hell broke loose. No scar
at his rib to mar the surface.
That flat stomach unencumbered
by an umbilicus.

I watch him eating fruit. Grapes, oranges
the juice running from his mouth.

At the river, he kneels down on all fours
extends his neck, giraffe-like, drinks.
Some days he cups those perfect hands
in the water.

The animals line up calmly, unafraid.

Matthew Sisson

- from The English Journal

MATTHEW SISSON’s work has appeared in The Larcom Review, Poetry Motel, The English Journal, East Of Eden, and the anthology Mercy Of Tides. He is the poetry editor of the trade journal Modern Steel Construction and owns and operates a steel fabricating and erecting business in Boston.