{..}<\/p>\n
one could stop and smell Lily too
\nunlike the rose, but akin.<\/p>\n
the blinding scream of children
\n“Will you harbor me?”<\/p>\n
dead trees line up crisscross across
\nsandy desert floor down whiskey creek
\nshadows growing longer
\nfootprints ever-which-way
\nlittle children still playing
\nmiddle teens still swaying
\ntwenties thinking
\nsuicide? or box themselves away?
\nChristina Green
\nDaniel rowed his boat ashore
\nAmy Good Man reports
\nstill they listen still they pray
\nsome fasting many days away<\/p>\n
and what do you fast for brother & sister?
\nand do you do it in public
\nfor self aggrandizement
\nor for the children
\nscreaming?<\/p>\n
heart on the floor will you join me
\none moment
\npickup whomsoever needs it?<\/p>\n
be sure to smell Easter Lily when she comes {..} one could stop and smell Lily too unlike the rose, but akin. the blinding scream of children “Will you harbor me?” dead trees line up crisscross across sandy desert floor down whiskey creek shadows growing longer footprints ever-which-way little children still playing middle teens still swaying twenties thinking suicide? or box themselves away? Christina … Continue reading “The Easter Lily That Came Early”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1261","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/motherbird.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1261","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/motherbird.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/motherbird.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/motherbird.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/motherbird.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1261"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/motherbird.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1261\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/motherbird.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1261"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/motherbird.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1261"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/motherbird.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1261"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n’round the mountain when she comes
\nand
\nshould she arrive too late or never
\nremember the smell
\nbreathe in breathe out…
\nthere she is!<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"