By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

The air crisp for a mid-April morn
Yet by noon-time
Flower petals are dry and brittle

Beneath the old Bald Cypress tree
lay two special eggs
hidden each Easter Day

Though both are grown
No longer at home
I hid these two precious eggs

Knowing one day
You’ll both come home to find
the precious gifts I harbor inside