The screech owl rarely mentioned, who hides
in the corners of Eden, the not-Eve, who given the chance
might have made some different choices, maybe even
refusing to cast us into the churning judgment, then again
maybe choosing to eat sooner, who knows but her?
Her raven hair pale skin form wandered through foliage,
peering through the parted leaves, at the exchange,
which makes one wonder if she smiled like Mona Lisa
or wrung her hands at the sound of plucking fruit.
[JD deHart is a teacher and writer. His work has appeared recently in Crack the Spine, Ancient Heart Magazine, and Eye On Life Magazine, among other journals. His blog is spinrockreader.blogspot.com.]