Day 1, Easter

Easter.

Among the elite of this land

are those on pilgrimage;

burger girls, musicians, mystics

drunks who say never again, they

have all escaped the cynic’s curse,

the one you release into the night.

So certain of your might

you can delegate and sleep

when your closed eye does not see

a favourite of this raggle-taggle

with timeless grace and unique promise

laughing down the years, waltzing

to the sound of bells

tearing up the contracts signed in blood.