Every Year
April 12, 2020
One must go in the mail slot,
and one must be hidden in the
lamp shade. Every year, one
must be hidden just out of reach,
a little higher than the year before.
We have to tell the story of the egg
hidden in the garbage can, and
we must find the picture to prove
it happened. And Dad – I mean,
the Easter Bunny – always brings
just the wrong kind of gummy worms.
The hunt always ends in
hotter and colder, each parent
hoping their egg is found last.
Then we crack the eggs and
sort the candy, and eat fresh biscuits
warm with the glow of tradition.
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