PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
Mark FordLetters And So It Goes
Letters from Young Mr Grace
(aka John Ashbery)

(PN Review 239)
Kei Millerthe Fat Black Woman
In Praise of the Fat Black Woman & Volume

(PN Review 241)
Henry Kingon Toby Martinez de las Rivas
(PN Review 244)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Next Issue Iain Bamforth On the Surface of Events Phoebe Power Once More the Sea Aram Saroyan About Lew Welch Walter Bruno Once more, on Value and English Lit Jenny King Moving Day and other poems
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PNR 250 Poetry Archive Banner
Monthly Carcanet Books
PN Review Blog

This poem is taken from PN Review 20, Volume 7 Number 6, July - August 1981.

Witnesses Edgar Bowers

Adam

The shadow-tail, the cotton-tail, the jay,
The spider on her trembling web, the mote
Swimming my blood-all innocent, all true,
All unsuspecting! But someone was there.
The burden of the past and future, father
And child of choice, he offers count and name.
It is as though, beneath a foreign tree,
Gifted with tongues, familiar of the brute,
I made a garden, kissed a face, and died.
Children I might have had, remember me,
That, in your quiet house, your word emerge.

Eve

I wonder if the Lord who walked the earth
And spoke to us could be the thought I had
When, by the pool, I watched your face, and thought
The whole creation filled by what I saw;
Or he could be the dream-parent of thought,
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image