Spring Sunset

Golden brittle leaves
Crackle underfoot,
Even though its Spring,
Season of rabbits and rebirth,
Flower petals and Passover.
Time to make a sign
On your door-frame,
Painted in lamb’s blood
So God doesn’t murder
The wrong children.

Orange sun sets
And gold leaf clouds.
Light drains from the east
Into the western sea.
The darkness spreads gently
Drifting off to sleep.
Stars will soon be shining
Out from the ebony vault.

If one of them died today
We wouldn’t even know
We had reason to mourn
For at least four years
As the light lives on
Beyond them.