Goldfinches have long since picked you dry,
flittered away after the crucifixion.
A crown once awash with light
now rests upon drooping neck,
tarnished not with pity,
Your face hints of sun-drenched days,
yet the tappity splat of thawing, frosted air
is the beginning of springs's marching band
and your resurrection.
by Margaret Bednar, November 1, 2013
This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Artistic Interpretations - with Maria Wulf". Maria is a fiber artist and blogs at "Full Moon Fiber Art" and lives on "Bedlam Farm" with her husband, author John Katz.