It is like worship, this Easter queue.
We search the aisles like pilgrims
studying a curious theology –
there is a puzzle in each plank and screw.
We carry our dreams carefully –
a new light; a shelf to place our hopes on
a hint of Mediterranean sun
on some gloomy suburban patio
plants that will breast the snow
as if they will live eternally.
No-one knows what to do
and no-one wants to be alone.
All we want is to be happy.
It is like worship, this Easter queue.