The air is still, and the sky flooded
gray.
Green things reach up while black things decay.
Cars hum past, bothered by delay,
And fifty years ago today,
It was Easter Sunday,
And the sun was high and bright,
Golden in the sky,
And children screamed with delight,
As they found many-colored eggs
And devoured chocolate pies.
But then
Their shiny shoes got stuffed in closets, easter memory forever now,
The houses that were here remain,
But the families are all gone somehow.
The air is still. The sky flooded gray. It is a dreary, weary Easter Sunday.
But God wanted it all this way.