Easter 1976

Of all the Easters I have lived,

there is but one unique. One weekend

out of all the rest when I was free of

family and obligation, free to wander

as I pleased. I drove from Carolina up to

West Virginia in my little Bug, across the

turnpike bridge, on to the Bryan’s house

where I could celebrate, relax, forget

about my college classes and relationships.

Most memorably, it was the first time

I experienced the luxury, the sprawl,

of being in a double bed all by myself.

I stretched my arms and legs and felt

like royalty with so much room. Now,

decades after, other Easter memories

inhabit one big pleasant room within my mind,

with cheerful thoughts of brand new dresses,

dyeing eggs and hiding them for little

pieces of myself around the yard, the smells

and sounds of corporate family dinners

that we could not duplicate this year.

I would never trade those memories away

but I am grateful for the slender queen

with long brown hair that sits there in a corner 
at the back, remembering and smiling 

as she stretches once again.

(c) 2019 Ellen Gillette