Holy Saturday’s Work
(for that which is already but not yet)
Go outside
and kneel
beside still-sleeping beds.
Strip away all
that’s dead;
the leaves,
brown and curled,
and the dry,
empty stems
of last year’s
blossoms.
Straighten,
one-by-one,
the
scallop-edged bricks
that have
stood, leaning,
all year-long
like
forgotten gravestones.
Roll the
giant flowerpot aside
and wonder
at the sound of
stone scraping
against stone.
– K. Chripczuk
LOVE this, Kelly. Oh, my! Thank you.
Thanks Diana, poems always feel like little presents to me that appear out of nowhere. I was so thankful for beautiful weather and the chance to spend a rare day working outside. Happy Easter!