in the premature vacuum of early dawn,
their licentious crowns
burgeoning thorny accusations.
Their heavy chains of open disdain,
commencing loose cords in sealed regret
to witness the wide-eyed leering spectacle:
lepers of one communal sin.
Placid, their piety mingling
Roman law – hard pressed,
united in one common caste
of happy stone-throwers,
the weary, the poor,
made impoverished by these dregs
staked to be cleansed.
He defied their crust and filth
with pierced hands unclenched -
forgiveness running red upon the block,
to annoy today’s commercial daydreams
of the sprightly raison bird
writhing lonely effigies in the sky
above these wavering gaggles
in their sunny bonnets, frills upon it –
collecting their Cadbury eggs.