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Easter, 2017

Don Hynes

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Easter 2017

I slowly wake in winter’s cave,

body stiff and sore.

In the still grey skies

trees bulge with sap,

their flowers opening,

the earth of another year

pressing out into the visible.

I drift back to sleep,

doze in the soft dark

as rivers fall

with the joy of ice.

The deep blanket

is pulled back by the sun

and the green land breathes.

Song birds are out

along the swollen rivers,

creatures pad through snowmelt.

It’s time to arise

and join the flush of spring.