Three standing crosses, staggered,
reinforce the salt white scrimmage line of cement curb.

Necks draped in floral strings—
guests in Hawaiian orchid leis attend a beach-side luau.

Rome had famous crucifixions;
my mind reechoes the long death wails of Pict and Gaul.

A traffic light dangles on a cable,
its glossed new body is trimmed in thin reflector yellow—

—no Lazarine resurrection.

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