Adam & Eve Go to the Zoo

It is Adam who stops at the front gate
Even though it’s open and held back.
He quivers, like he’s thought of a splinter.
Eve is already looking past the iron gates
Into the plotted wilderness that aches
Inside of her like a vague déjà vu.

There is the walrus, there is the fox,
There is the panda and his hiding box.

Adam is drawn to bears: the bloated mass
Of brown fur, heavy-pawed. He feels this way:
Without dexterity. Yet Adam is
In awe of the secret nimbleness their fingers
And his contain. He wonders if someone, maybe
Even Eve, will ask to see how they work.

Eve finds herself pressed against the glass
Of the gorilla, bigger than she,
Who she imagines she could fit inside,
The swell of child, or the ultraviolet
Blossom of soul. She hopes that maybe the bee
Will see what is beyond her vision now.

Here is the goat, here is the lamb,
Here is the camel with his head in the sand.

Here is Adam in the butterfly
Enclosure, disappointed by the silence.
Eve comes upon him here, and the monarchs come
And nest in her hair. She feels as if the wind
Has visited her; and Adam takes one on
His finger and lets Eve give it lift with breath.

The nursery, at last: egg-white and full
Of murmur; the cub is suckling milk
From a bottle; bright new sheep for the grasslands
Tumble; Adam and Eve are still at last
(Their breath marks on the glass). This is
The world that they were born for, if not born into.

Here is the woman, here is the man.
Here is the earth in the palm of our hand.

Copyright © 2003 Jason Gray All rights reserved
from And We The Creatures
Dream Horse Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission