Palm Monday

A curled around frond on the
Kitchen table, there among
Junk mail, the crystal salt

Shaker, a hard heel of bread
By a half-drunk bottle of
Red wine. The plants on the bay

Window sill are mostly
Dead, jealous of the budding
Prospects beyond the panes --

Stiff kin to the stiff palm:
Still life of crisp mornings
Past, my sister weaving

Tiny crosses with the odd
Hand outs, while the reverent
Hailed the promise of
Another spring.

David Downey