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by April Halprin Wayland

Eli rests in the dust by the stone bench
on the east end of the dog park
chewing a disgusting tennis ball.

“C’mon, Eli—we’re in the dog park
chase someone for heaven’s sake!” I yell.
There’s a man on the bench.

“I’m Eli, too.”
I just told him to chase someone
so I apologize.

“It’s short for Elijah,” he says.
I didn’t know.
My Eli was named after a baseball player.

This Eli says he’s always wanted
to walk through
a random open door

on Passover
and say,
“Hey!  It’s me!  I’m here!”

poem (c) 2012 April Halprin Wayland

Poetry Prompt:

Another true story from the dog park.

During the Passover seder, our family pours a cup of wine and leaves the back door open for the prophet Elijah.  I always loved the idea that one day, a man dusty from an unimaginably long walk across the desert would come into our house through that door.

Now it’s your turn.  Stand on your head and write a poem for Passover or Easter or Spring.  Be unpredictable–come at this topic from a completely different angle.   Have fun with this!

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