Curtains!

Good Friday under Southern skies:

A cacophony of birdsong cries

No cars, no humans – a surprise

Just aircon hum;

I stroll along straight leafy streets

Past empty driveways, quiet retreats

Where wheelie-bins are lined up neat;

In sight - no one…

 

Faded awnings, sun-burnt dry

”No junk mail” signs as I go by

Carports open to the sky

But not a soul;

Yet, Via Dolorosa thrill:

Families on pavements mill

And nearby churches start to fill

As lone bells toll.

 

City of Churches – Adelaide

Come-as-you-are now on parade

Sartorial splendour not displayed

It’s so laid back;

Hymns loudly sung with on-stage band

The well-known story – God as Man

For whom the cruellest death is planned

To re-enact.

 

The centurion who watched it all …

The sponge with bitter-tasting gall …

The crowds of followers in awe

Of this event;

In excruciating pain

This sacrifice was not in vain

The temple curtain split in twain

Proof of intent …

(c) Poet in the woods 2022