Good Friday Neighbors
On this starless night, spirits leave their pain behind at your table
And in the garden below, there’ll be an over-flow of laughter
Unholy shrieks much like a goblin makes on such a solemn night
Cold clinking glasses spilling mirth, and Sabbath bread is breaking
Voices growing, singing louder, Oh Night to mourning bringing night
Your alcohol is flowing, and your babies are crying in the dark
Karen K.L. Espaniola April 6, 2012
