These Easter Baskets of Yore

This Easter Baskets of yours

This year all your sad eggs of the past will sparkle within my Easter Basket;

This year I will see you smilingly alive and unruly...
like the time you stole the wedding presents from the outraged bride
who was a friend of the family ...and was shamelessly caught.

I'll see you defiantly plant your feet as you get what you really want;

when the small town police threaten to haul you off and away
from the angry suffocating dust of your jealous husbands feet
you will fly, 
he will throw up his hands to declare you unmanageable!

He will send you packing with this unbearable embarrasement!
... and you with your perfectly executed plan will finally live
with your big brother in Milwaukee.

This year I'll see you clutching your tiny handbag in mock innocent suprise
sitting on the grassy lakeside and dreamy.

This year i'll compare your features to mine under your checkered Easter bonnet
as i've never been able to do before.

This Year and now every year, you will be alive on those sparkling days of Lent
no longer will my memories be dressed with the white silk pillow of your Easter coffin.

Tonight,
You will escape the clutches of your overbearing husband while your mother-in-law
guard dogs the locked door of disapproval.... you will throw up that sash and be slipping
out the bedroom window once more, strolling down that moonlit lane with mud on your shoes
and you will not have a care in the world.
 
 You will be jitterbugging with the locals as you so loved to do; breathlessly, smokey eyed,
with those red, red lips you will sing at the piano like a baudy freed Canary out in the adoring
sunshine as the good fellas pour you another round at the bar.

This year, I will whisper into this Easter basket of yours a simple message to Jesus;
"...and for the triple resurrection...
yours, hers and mine,
I am so thankful for these sad eggs that sparkle"

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is amazing...You show us a picture similar to the ones I have of our family in the 50's...the old black and whites...and like a film noir, you capture the essence of the girl in the picture as she grows up a rebel, is constrained for a time by a bad husband, escapes that, finds another and escapes, and maybe drifts off to another world, finally and absolutely free to be herself.
Where she can look back at this picture and smile...while we all wonder just what she did have in that purse--what secrets?

[Corset]

secrets I image we'd rather not know, but at that time she appeared very happy with her brother in Wisconsin , thank you Jacob , stay safe, be well :D

[h d e rushin]

s**t woman, you have me in tears. But this is how it goes; life, love, loss. And like Keats said, " we write poetry obscurely all our lives, and then we die". He meant it as a testament to life not as a dirge- thin pronunciation of death or how the unmappable clutches of life's events however"unmanageable or embarrassing means that it wasn't worth it.

the final stanza is a scherzo and should be viewed as such with joy and playfulness just as the madrigals of the baroque period intended it. It's hard not to take this sadness, without smiling....great poem...dana

[Corset]

I love your tender soul Dana, that this would move you to tears, dedications are often blown over unless they are all us lolol. I love those kinds ha!
Thank you dear guardian, be safe, be well.