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A Final Visit to Eden

Catherine Esposito Prescott

The voice that plucked
them from the garden
did not come from the heavens –
not the sun-eye nor the moon-eye.
It was a voice that tickled their feet like fire.
The sun rose. The moon set.
Adam ran; Eve danced,
each away from the other.
And they never looked back.

Catherine Esposito Prescott

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