Easter Eggs Please

On TV there are plastic Easter eggs on the White House lawn, Everyone is dressed in finery, we all smile and fawn. Worldwide sight, toddlers are picking up eggs, screaming with delight. They can barely sleep, holding their bunnies and chicks that night. In our own houses and apartments we dye our hands in red. Celebrating a time when Jesus showed us dead is not dead. Resurrection in the back of our minds, giving us hope. Sister calls brother’s egg a silly looking crazy Easter dope. We have to put bleach on our hands to get rid of the dye. Getting ready for church with lacy socks that make the girls sigh. Because we have to leave our eggs at home unfortunately. Then we troop off to worship, Christians chanting with glee.