Red Palms

Music chimes a peaceful note from the mouths of children
waving palm fronds to signal triumphant goodness,
line a welcome path for the Master.

Peace be with you.

Tears of joy blend with splattered crimson pews upended
in a rubble of hatred permeating empty minds
determined to crush freedom.

Cry for Egypt.

Red palms scatter the ancient floor of life, open palms
never to breathe again, nailed to a cross of
faith, hope and love.

Cry for the world.

–Victoria Emmons, 2017

Bunnies and Things

There are no rabbits in my yard. Or at least they don’t make themselves visible, if they are there. Could it be that the coyotes have found them all? My cats have never brought any furry creatures to my front door other than mice who have no long ears. Once I saw what I thought was a rabbit all curled up sleeping in the grass just on the other side of the fence. When it stood and arched its back to stretch, I realized it was no rabbit. It was a bobcat!

So where have all the rabbits gone? It is Easter, after all, and warm, soft bunnies should be hopping around the tall grass, shouldn’t they? Shouldn’t they be sidling up next to pink Easter baskets?

There are no eggs, either. The eggs are filled with cholesterol and clogging my arteries. No colored eggs this year. No hiding them behind plants on the deck or pillows on the sofa where they were always easy to find. No hiding. I cannot hide this year. There is no one to find me.