Easter Sunday, and a poem runs
through my mind every year.
It’s by Yeats, and part of it goes:
Two Chinamen, behind them a third,
Are carved in lapis lazuli,
Over them flies a long-legged bird
A symbol of longevity;
The third, doubtless a servingman
Carries a musical instrument...
The words recall my dad, Mason,
who died during Easter.