One Easter, the last chords of our closing hymn
still buzzing in the upright strings of the Hope Church School
piano, our black-robed pastor, fresh from his sermon,
surprised us all, swooshing in with a hamper full
of new-hatched chicks. Each child would be allowed
to choose, from the twittering mass of fluff, one chick
to fondle, to feather the Day’s text: life renewed.