good friday

today the warmth returned
and the blond-haired boys were
running wild through beds
of brittle hydrangea
and barren rose canes
when the littlest
still unsteady on his feet
caught his teddybear bib on a thorn

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maundy thursday

we’ve had a cold snap again
frost nipping the eager blooms
of the japanese magnolias
and kissing the bricks
that weight the blanket
stretched over the half-moon bed
of drowsing flowers

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vanquished is the lonely night

look, light has broken
on the darkened world
vanished is the lonely night —
eternity dawns

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everything — and us

poor, his bed is not
even his to claim
at least in human reck’ning
could this be the one
ev’ry soul longs for?

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