The Last Easter Egg Hunt of Childhood
Poem
White billowy costume dress.
Bare feet and sandy toes.
The same homemade basket used from the first Easter as a toddler.
Covid closed our beaches, our yard—
the place where we go to escape shoebox homes on streets with no sidewalks.
We followed wild bunnies that lead us to the tiny treasures near the sea.
That part of me that knew the last days of nursing and crawling,
also knew this would be the last time she searched for rainbow colored plastic eggs.
With waves at our ankles, we blew kisses to the past.
I held my Velveteen Rabbit, whose love has made me real.
We turned and walked across that threshold together …
The last vestiges of childhood.
Sage Justice © 2021 www.SageWords.org This concept/theory/poem is original to Sage Justice. If you use it, please give credit and link to original work. Thank you.
Sage Justice is an award-winning poet, author, critically acclaimed performing artist, and intensely sincere, bold humanitarian activist.
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How beautiful, my friend. Happy Easter.
Just beautiful. The saying is so very true, the days are long, but the years are quick. All too quick, you blink and your child is grown