Easter by Jill Alexander Essbaum

is my season
of defeat.

Though all
is green

and death
is done,

I feel alone.
As if the stone

rolled off
from the head

of the tomb
is lodged

in the doorframe
of my room,

and everyone
I’ve ever loved

lives happily
just past

my able reach.
And each time

Jesus rises
I’m reminded

of this marble
fact:

they are not
coming back.

From: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poem/240934

Date: 2011

By: Jill Alexander Essbaum (1971- )

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