Figures by Peter Paul Rubens, landscape and animals by Jan Brueghel the Elder, 'The garden of Eden with the fall of man,' c. 1615

Like many fathers God had no patience

for infants. So he made us older

but naïve. We never needed

to crawl, bruise bone on stone

or feel the sting of his rod.

We lacked experience with failure.

Unlucky that way, our lost childhood

was like a death from the opposite end.

He may have been bored as hell

in heaven, alone with his stars, empty

space and that initial Word yet undefined.

He had little to do but play

with the things he’d made. Eager

for us to make sense or mistakes,

he sent that darker ego with a tiny tongue

and tempting promises.

With so much to learn, who wouldn’t

be curious? Many men envy their fathers.

We wanted all he knew, the whole garden,

but we hoped he would leave us alone.

Gary Stein’s Touring the Shadow Factory won the Brick Road Poetry Press annual competition in 2017. His chapbook, Between Worlds (Finishing Line, 2014), was a contest finalist. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in journals such as Poetry, Prairie Schooner, Poet Lore, Folio, Penn Review, the Atlanta Review, and the Asheville Poetry Review. He holds an MFA from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, co-edited Cabin Fever (The Word Works, 2004), and has taught creative writing in high schools and colleges.

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Published in the November 2023 issue: View Contents
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