Slow to Easter

by Dr. William S. Kilgore

Banished from innocence so fair,

Draped in clothing unneeded there,

Minerals and maggots in soil call,

Provided dirt we’ll eventually wear,

Inevitable transferal to shrouded lair,

Slow to Easter, so move we all.

Speed blurs life, the slower we get,

Waking surprised we’re not there yet,

Long lengths long for the embrace,

Struggling prey caught in fowler’s net,

Belated buzzard’s table now all but set,

Sure-appointed demise, without stays.

Exiled outside gate into bitter cold,

For times until time itself begins to fold,

With awaited ear-piercing trumpet call,

New vegetation breaking forth from old,

Free, nothing ever-more bought or sold,

Still slow to Easter, so move we all.

With life in the square, enjoying a spin,

Until an unforeseen moment it cuts in,

Defiance, no longer appropriate anymore,

A competition entered, none can win,

A dance inevitably intended to end,

As you’re escorted off of the dance floor.

Much greater dignity in walking away,

To live again to fight another Day,

Now speechless to answer any who call,

Already speaking all words given to say,

Pulverized as reclaimable broken clay,

Always slow to Easter, so move we all.

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Dr. William S. Kilgore is a sociology professor residing in Houston, Texas. After nearly thirty years as an academic, William began writing poetry in 2024 while at home recovering from a kidney transplant, at the age of 56. This opened a door to a new way of contemplating things that was entirely new to him. Initially writing primarily for himself, some friends and family have encouraged him to seek publication. William began doing this in earnest in 2026. He has poems scheduled for the Spring issues of Westward Quarterly and Foreshadow.