Easter Resurrection

Skeletal against the March sky
She stretches grey and brittle wood –
Extends a brown fist toward the hail.

Cracking a gnarled knuckle she rends
Her own flesh to reveal a white vein,
A fallen shard of the full Easter moon.

A flicker of waxy tongues emerges
to taste the night bright air
and test the faint taste of Spring.

Aching with the imperative
To uncurl, unfurl,
Cramped with impatience,

Sweet magnolia overcomes
The containing bud
To stretch her outstretched palm

Towards the morning’s first sun.

~ Louisa McKee