My family was not religious as I grew up

Nor are they now

But we always celebrated Easter


Kites flying above

Eggs filled with trinkets

Baskets hidden in the dryer, we always forget


Toys with a toothy rabbit

Chicks on the cheap plastic

I don’t even like carrots


On those sunny Easter Sundays

I learned to hate the sunshine

Associated it with bickering


The happiness I felt turned sour

Much like the eggs

Fresh ocean air became suffocating


Distracting myself with bubbles

Brothers putting paper grass in my hair

Driving with the top down


Baskets soon stopped

No celebration

Dyeing eggs with beer


What holiday changes dates every year?



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