#EasterSunday

He kicks his third found ball
outside our back door
beating an executor’s drum roll

before his imminent collection –
by his mother – to be dragged
to Grandma’s gathering of love

where elephants stand in rooms
and his overbearing relatives
pour their necessary champagne

and pretend that life is beautiful
everywhere – but don’t mention his father
or anything else to spoil this day

He will return with word bruises
but he won’t show them to me –
I have to accept his light kicking