News

Police Apprehend Armed Man and Woman in Central Square

News

107 Faculty Called for Review of Tenure Procedures in Letter to Dean Gay

News

Citing Toxic Culture and Administrator Departures, Harvard School of Public Health Faculty Repeatedly Weighed Voting No Confidence in Dean

News

Elizabeth Wurtzel ’89, Who Collected Friends ‘Like Beads on a String,’ Dies at 52

Multimedia

The Photos That Captured the 2010s

DARTBOARD

A summary of views, commentary and sometimes comedy.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

IMPROMPTU EASTER POETRY

(written on a whim in 15 minutes--)

Mom and Dad stayed up last night.

Jennifer and I heard them an hour

after they tucked us in,

Clinking vases and plucking sofa

cushions from their tightly-packed

places,

Setting the metronome off allegro--

Whispering among themselves:

"What'll we do if they don't find them

all?"

"Won't the lost ones attract ants?"

"Don't be such a spoil sport! They'll

find all of them."

That night we dreamt of Christmas.

In the morning,

The mad rush

Of blankets kicked forward into

sunlight!

The shades pulled up.

And seven o'clock sunshine

Touching every remote corner

In the crack of the floor molding,

Between the battered cookbooks on

the shelf,

Darting under mugs overturned

and a glove tossed casually on the floor.

The glint of a gilded wrapper!

"Look here! Look here!"

The thing is

Snatched delicately.

Overjoyed and disbelieving

--the house is filled with mounds of

treasure--

The sheath is caressed off the curve,

The prize is trophied,

Sniffed,

Engulfed.

Chocolate is not my favorite but this

tastes wonderful.

One after one

The eggs and marshmallow

Bunnies, the caramel chicks

And tiny fluffy toys

Show up

Exactly where you'd expect them to.

The electrifying chill of chewing on

a foil wrapper,

A restrained, joyful sermon from

Father Stephen,

And Mom and Dad waking up to

observe the hunt from the stair,

The warmth of the outside, the tulip buds and the smell of wet grass

Today bring a wistful smile to my face.

The Easter of my youth,

Told in kitsch.

Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter.

Tags