Page 10 - Contrast1986v28

THAT EASTER

You wanted me home, you said
So I got up
and crawled out into the gray haze
that was the early morning highway.

Radio static singed my nerves that day
Between blurbs of "How Great Thou Art"
and "Easter Parade"
Fire and brimstone couldn't hold me;
It was the caffeine of coke and coffee
that kept me on the edge

of my seat,
of sleep
of the highway.

Somehow Maryland finally rolled into Delaware,
And Delaware rolled into home.
Soon to rest, to wrap myself
in soft dry quilts,
and to breathe deeply
of warm aromas.

But as I passed through the front door
the haze only got thicker.
And then your clouds descended.

So I got out,
and crawled back out into the haze

back through the storm,
through the rain,
through my tears.

It always seems to rain on Holidays .

.,

Margaret Jacobs

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