Saturday, April 11, 2020

black saturday

i’m not yet ready 
for any hallelujahs. 
i am preparing 
for burial. 
we are still 
entombed. 

we hold our breath. 
there are still songs 
but they hold 
no celebration. 

each day is 
always a day of 
lamentation 
or watchful 
expectation. 

we are told 
good tidings 
proclaimed 
to the dead. 

we bring our 
offerings, 
prepare 
our ways. 
take time 
for blessing, 
baskets full: 
bread, eggs, 
lamb, salt. 

the floors 
covered:
laurel leaves, 
flower petals.

our hands empty. 
and then we wait. 

victory today 
though not yet 
risen.

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