Easter Stone
A circle opens
as once my leaves,
alone longest with sky-scar.
Mist explores valleys. Frolicking waves wait.
Ashen shadow scolds, scalds,
eats grief, breathes stored belief’s last gasps
of the season.
A stony weight’s removed from fear,
all are freed to sweat now.
Plead to shiver, solicit ice, beg night, labor
to move that hopeblock back.
Beads of St. John’s semen
glisten in this morning’s sun.
— Basil Cartryte
2025-04-20
(NaPoWriMo 2025 Day 20)