Easter Was Hard

Easter was hard for my young mind to grasp.

Chocolate bunnies laying eggs, Mom hunched

Over the dining room table blowing

The insides from raw ones Dad whipped into

a froth, scrambled, and we boys then devoured.

Watched Mom clear the table, paint the hollow

Shells with delicate brushes until they

Took your breath away. While Jesus suffered,

Died, a horrible, heartbreaking story,

But wait! That was Good News somehow because

God meant to kill his Son for us and Sin.

He didn’t really die.  You won’t either.

The virgins wore hats like flowering shrubs.

I got a new jacket, too big and white.

—Easter, 2013