Iowa Writes

CONNIE SANDERSON
Eve


Birdsong.
I sense my body
rise and fall, open eyes
to leaf-framed sky, wonder
what these hands are for.

A name rings through
the dappled light. Together
we stroll the perfect paths.
Fruit drops. We find
what mouths are for.

Days drift towards nights.
We learn to sleep. Awake
we ponder the fan-shaped tree.
I want more than the garden,
need to be moved like the birth

I missed. Alone one time
I bend down a branch, grasp
a shiny globe. A face peers out
from its ruby skin. The apple
rises from my empty hands.

About Iowa Writes

Since 2006, "Iowa Writes" has featured the work of Iowa-identified writers on The Daily Palette, and it has recently expanded its scope to include work published by Iowa journals and publishers. Curated by the staff of The Iowa Review, "Iowa Writes" features poetry, fiction, or nonfiction several times a week on the Palette. In November, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) designated Iowa City, Iowa, the world's third City of Literature, making the community part of the UNESCO Creative Cities Network. Iowa City has joined Edinburgh, Scotland and Melbourne, Australia as UNESCO Cities of Literature.

Find out more about submitting at iowawrites.org


CONNIE SANDERSON

This poem originally appeared in Volume 5, Number 6 of 100 Words, a journal published by The University of Iowa's International Writing Program between 1993 and 1998. Each piece in the journal had to be 100 words or fewer, and each issue had a theme. This issue's theme was "On Garden."

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