Easter Morning

Easter Morning

 a stone at dawn

 cold water in the basin

 these walls’ rough plaster

imageless

after the hammering

of so much insistence

on the need for naming

after the travesties

 that passed as faces,

grace: the unction

 of sheer nonexistence

upwelling in this

hyacinthine freshet

 of the unnamed

 the faceless

  Amy Clampitt

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