lenten journal: flower show

by now in most marches -- at least at this latitude
Easter is made to look like a foregone conclusion

new life springing forth in every bed and byway
as though resurrection were as natural as daffodils

but this year the dirt has stayed as cold as bones
and the daffodils duped into blooming all alone

so I bend down and whisper into their yellow bells
a story I know about a snow covered cemetery and

children digging for eggs one Easter morning up
north where spring shows up a long time after Jesus

the little ones laughed among the grave stones
and ran like Mary barreling back to tell the others

I was there, I say, I saw life among the tombs yet all
they do is bask in the beauty of their short little lives

Peace,
Milton