Easter Sunday

The seagulls waited
Circling, hungry, and watching
Alert for colors

They waited some more
They arrived four weeks ago
Gulls, sans calendars

The children brought eggs
Their parents and their parents
All with Paas hued eggs

Thousands of bright eggs
Blues, oranges, pinks, greens, purples
Easter hard boiled

They threw all their eggs
Down Old Main Hill, USU
A feast of color

I could not watch it
We ate eggs when I was young
Pearl Street, Trout River

They all drove away
Colorful shells on the grass
The seagulls moved in

A feast for seagulls
Yoke-billed and albumin filled
They left only shells

So I pedaled hard
All the way up McMurdie
Post-holing in snow

Up Pisgah Mountain
A stupid-hard long bike ride
They make me happy

Alone with Mother
Sagebrush wet in the snow melt
Nuthatches singing

The end of the road
After the last knee deep drifts
Egg shells on the ground

Some lone woods-person
Happily ate Easter eggs
For sunrise breakfast