Classic Poem

Insects buzzed in the grasses,
The bees hummed by with cargoes of wood-honey:
Gazing up into the sky, they saw it as an infinite fire of blue,
Changing the world to glory.

For very pain he turned toward her, raised on his elbow,
And his hand down her sloping side feasted upon her.

Then she drew near, in pain,
And the moment had come for them …

But as he locked her in his arms,
A black snake of horror reared hissing in his heart,
And passion died …

For in his arms lay his Mother,
The hair grey over her temples,
And the lines about her mouth,
And sorrow of those much-experienced eyes.

He arose, trembling, and turned from her:
He knew that he was naked.

Flaming swords drove him from that Eden,
And not once looking back, he left her where she moaned and wept,
And went forth to find the trail again,
His Mother following.