Eve Reclining (Musée Rolin, Autun)
Beneath indulgent berries and forked leaves
In stone Eve indolently lies so lightly
She seems suspended in the buoyant air.
Her flesh, formed from a rib of Adam’s dust,
Still incandescent from the breath of heaven–
What infinite possibilities of joy
Does her tranced gaze command?
Inscrutable, her face; her plaited hair
Coils upon a pliant arm. She brushes
Succulent fruit hung from the yielding branch.
There is no serpent anywhere.
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