Friday 2 April 2021




When the sky turned

From deepest inky black

To daylight once more….


When the hewn remnants

Of that curtain were

Pulled down to be repaired….


When the cross was

Once more empty

The nail holes all that’s left….


When the sponge and spear

Were gathered up

And taken into store….


When the stone was

Rolled into it’s

Final resting place….


When the scattered friends

Gazed at the evening’s

Setting sun….


When the spices were

All sorted and

Whispered plans were shared….


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