National Poetry Month: Easter in Quarantine

I am never going to hold still for your Instagram pictures;

it will take me ‘til 4pm to find all the eggs you’ve hidden.

Maybe someday I will understand how this time 

has shaped the world we live in.

It will always have been part of my reality.

Right now I just want to run up and down

       up and down

              into the bushes.

We will all get haircuts eventually.

 

Where you want to put a period, God and I put a comma.

This is not the end.

He is risen, indeed, and so have the hyacinths.

Up and down; world without end, amen.

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