Sport 39: 2011
Easter
Easter
Each of us chooses an egg.
Uncle who has just passed away
gets the blue.
My first cousin wraps herself around
her sunny child. Yellow.
The boy next door brings a wooden one.
(We let him win for a while.)
My mother picks the most stubborn of the lot,
one that remains intact when all the others
are crushed and crumbed into saffron yolk.
The late uncle sneezes and we close all
the windows.
I tell you April has wide nostrils
and a touch of hay fever.