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Vacant

(Holy Saturday)

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A day for scurrying

Like mice in light

Look for food,

Hide, rest

Listening for the next

Sounds that are not yours

That might be coming for you

Or might give you away

Now add on human sadness

The living of a tragedy

Like Oedipus,

Antigone

No happy ending possible

The hero is gone

The extraordinary years are gone

There is nothing now

But flight from arrest,

Weeping as at Babylon

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Practicing tradition

In the dark

Since the source was killed

In horror

Sleeps without sleeping

Leaving everyone

To scurry to avoid arrest

To somehow persist

With broken hearts

Hope so far off

To be recalled

Stories torn

Healing forgotten

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We count this day

An in-between

They knew it only

As an empty,

Weeping nothing

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C L Couch

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Photo by Denny Müller on Unsplash

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