The World Before Them

By Steve Kronen

Actually, it was sweet and heavy with juice

and we passed it back and forth, a river

of nectar running down her chin and mine

until we were full and our faces shone

and could not tell receiver from giver.

I loved its weight in my hand, bruised

just a little from having fallen

from those high, green limbs. And we took its seed

and planted more when we left that place

so we’d always be sure to have its taste

upon our tongues. That was her idea, freed

us from worrying about the future. And all in

all, we didn’t. We ate them to the core.

It’s as though we’d been provided for.