The garden

Poem by Roger Iredale

'And why in any case was a talking snake wriggling through herbaceous borders when lions were lying down with lambs, eating grass and currants...' | Photo: by Mateusz Bajdak on Unsplash

Who they were, what they did, and which one
was to blame is what the merry-go-round of sages
pondered, dancing on the proverbial pin.

And pondered also down the ages if
the sin was ersatz or original, or even half
and half, and if it started with a forked tongue

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