Post 253
April 19, 2019
Easter Sunday Morning
early morning choir twitters and chirps
from deep inside bushes and trees
accompanied by low, long tones
wheels turning against the pavement.
hidden sun brightens the sky
somewhere behind layers of grey mist
softly darkening Norway maple branches
starkly naked springtime trees.
I made no special plans for today
no Easter bouquet or new lavender dress
Instead, I recline on soft pillows
write on journal pages.
I listen and watch.
A dark opening of a hillside tomb
dances through my thoughts
somewhere in the Eastern world
old dreams continue.
I ponder the meaning of this
Resurrection morning.
***
Written 1990. Revised 2019.
First Published~
“Now…we are three: Four Pennsylvania Poets” Chapbook. 2000.
–
Lynda McKinney Lambert. Copyright 2019 All Rights Reserved.
Lynda’s Poems: Click here to read more poems!
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