IN THEBIRTH GARDEN

in thebirth garden she asked of the tree
i telled her not to touch
not because i cower
but because i have mercy

there was the serpent
spirit of shadow and vines
should the creature give her the wood-sweet
i will shatter by morning

i tremble at crunching
the shriveling of me
not a bruail barely death destruction-shaped
she was goddess by dawn and tangled in eternity