by Frank Diamond

Artwork, “Natural Turmoil” by Autumn Griego

Cain bushed out the Serengeti.

Neanderthal and lonely, after feasting

for days on his latest kill. Blood and

bone and plenty. Is faith, fear? Fear, faith?

Does it ever really matter?

Squinting across a sea of green

and nearly thinking, “Something’s missing.”

Waiting for the question coming

as he rubs his belly and listens

to a hunter claw a tooth still insisting.

The Tree of Knowledge and the Tree of Life

root stonily in the garden. There’s no kill

like the first kill. No will like free will.

No still like the still of waiting

for judgment surely coming.

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