Sunday 27 March 2016


It comes rushing in with the sun,
the memories of who you were,
who you've always been - and you
want to give thanks for the bread
and the wine, and all the other times
you stood in the sun

but your eyes snag on a shadow
stamped, immovable, on the wall.

(c) Shaista Tayabali, 2016

Image and prompt from Magpie Tales

(It bothers me, to end on shadows and sorrow, but that's the way the poem comes, sometimes. Easter is that way - sorrowful, then joyful. Happy Easter,dear readers 🐣)