Here’s my day two poem offering.
Yesterday
Yesterday was Palm Sunday.
I remembered only towards day’s end.
I remember well
in the Holy Weeks of my childhood
the smell
of fresh-cut pine tree branches,
sacramentals in the box at the church entrance.
We’d choose a blessèd stem
symbol of adulation
of imminent betrayal,
reminder of how we blow with the wind:
cry ‘Hosanna!’ one day
cry ‘Crucify Him!’ the next.
Yesterday was also April Fool’s day.
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