Rabbits forgot the spot
this time around, I guess.
Or maybe they found some finer plot
offering rarer and larger fare
than the crocuses--
the tiny kind, almost lost to sight,
poking through soil and leaves,
exposing green and purple--
the deep, dark shades of colors
that Janice loved.
I stopped there, on this post-Easter Tuesday.
She loved them all:
   rabbits, forgetful or not;
   crocuses, tiny, with shaded hues;
   looming cross, empty tomb,
   and me.