Look at that man
standing all alone.
His head bent, his garment torn.
He stands apart in the shadows.
His hands in shackles, his eyes remain low.
Here comes someone who comes with a key
but it is fake and mocks liberty.
the Atonement
An Easter Poem
I am thankful for spring –
with its longer days and warmer air.
I am thankful for sweets –
and all the delicious goodies we share.
