The year snow fell and stayed
on Easter day
our mother would not be deterred.
She hid the hard-boiled eggs she’d dyed,
right in the snow beneath the trees.
So even though
this wasn’t weather she preferred,
she kept her word,
and we happy children
not caring we were wearing boots
held baskets high
and searched for eggs
with mittened hands.


© by Alessandra Foster.
Used with the author's permission.