No Candy This Year

The eggs had been colored,

and scattered about


The baskets were hidden,

the children to shout…


“Was he here mom, was he here?”

they yell from upstairs


“Come down and find out,”

she says—nary a care


Their little feet rush,

taking two steps at once


Wide eyes dart all over,

playing their hunch


Living and dining rooms

they tear with a fever


No corner is safe,

from the incursion of either


“I found it, I found it,”

the bigger one said


The smaller one saddened,

their heart filled with dread


“The Bunny forgot,

there’s no candy this year”


From across the big room,

the first start of a tear


“The Bunny never forgets,”

their mother cried out


“You have to look harder,

both inside and out”


And as the front door was opened,

the little one chimed…


“Mom, he didn’t forget

—it was here all the time”



(To My Grandchildren: Easter 2017)



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