The Other Couple and Cast Away, two poems by Joseph Radke

What was missing was the sin,
the mistake, the pivotal event,
and thus the great unfolding drama
lacked its tragic climax. Gone too:
the need, the chance for atonement.

It all happened when our eyes
were elsewhere, while we tended
to our own affairs. Then, suddenly,
the inexplicable decay. As if we were
some other, unknown couple in Eden.

Neither confession nor penance
can erase what we didn’t commit
but was committed against us.
All I can offer is forgiveness.
To whom, I don't know.

We cannot rebuild the beauty
of the garden from memories
and a few flower petals pressed
between the pages of an old book.
Not even the fragrance survives.

I am tired of this boot full of stones
Bearing everything you’ve said.

The one with specks of quartz
Reads, Did I ever tell you about…

Another, a flat skipping stone,
Has Thank you in slanting script.

A big jagged one, sharp edged,
Small print—I don’t know.

This one worn smooth
From too much handling:

One side, Good-bye,
The opposite, I truly do.

The others I’ll cast away.