Easter Sunday
In the east
The sun has risen
West to the stormy Atlantic
Over besieged Europe and Assisi
A celestial marble cast
Upon the blessed earth
Where wild violets bloom
Such a perfect April perfume
Wafting through ye olde orchard
Ye olde church bells
Clanging and chiming
Across the noble village square
A carillon of Easter prayer
As novel corona
Recites a eulogy
Echoing every acclamation
Over impressionable pews
Reverberating pressing exclamations
Through restless streets
While angelic swallows
Soar wild and free
I see a hollow world
Above saintly church steeples
Following a discourse
Through my orchard trees
World suffering
Brings me to my knees
Every gnarled amen
Suffer little children
All this April grieving
On Easter Sunday
Pasqua di Resurrezione del Signore
Thoughtful Christ has risen
Reasoning world vision
Along with covid-19
Easter Sunday service
Someone is coughing
Humanitarian treason
Remain kneeling
Reeling through infamous life
Such a rife congregation
This Eucharist
Life's grits
Bits of broken bread
Washed down with watered wine
A somber Easter scene
With an after taste
Of covid-19