Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser
She was terrible at it.
We’d find the pastel-colored, plastic
eggs filled with stale candy months,
maybe a year or more, later.
Behind the curtains.
Under the sofa cushions.
Beneath the lamp shade.
Perhaps a family dog would eventually
alert us to them, or we’d get around
to cleaning, or be looking for something
necessary that we’d misplaced.
We’d say, “Count them first!”
We’d say, “Make a map!”
But, it never happened and we’d be
left to joke that we had a particularly
senile Easter Bunny.
We can lose things so easily.
“Be attentive,” counsels Mary Oliver.
Tomorrow, we’ll hide eggs for the kids.
Across the green lawn.
In the trees and shrubbery.
On the jungle gym.
When all is said and done,
the baskets filled and
the sugar coursing, we’ll pretend
to have lost at least one.
We’ll say, “That’s in honor of
Grandma Billie.” And, they’ll
think us nuts.
It’ll be our way of being attentive.
© 2015/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Portraits" (a work in progress)
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