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Adam howls
as glowing leaves
from Eden fall

onto the graves
of Eve and Seth.
A cheery pile­ it moves

like breath
over bones
like growth,

while Adam's skin
winds him in a chrysalis,
and he begins

to hiss
the buds of wings,
to cross

the strings
that build his cell,
that doll his limbs.

But once a year, a bell­
this season­ calls
his many shades of hell.

  Carolyn Smale

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