Hot cross buns in the street

You say my approach to Easter
is very rural village primary school –

the devotion of teachers crafting displays
from hand-me-down bonnets and floral backing paper.

Strange, since I’ve never looked to God for answers.
I don’t know what I believe except, perhaps, in time –

as in: we’re ruled by a lack of it. The waste of minutes
paying for our TV license, hoovering the carpets

taking supplementary vitamins. There’s almost too much sun,
this Good Friday in Brighton. We try on sustainable dungarees

in hopeful colours (mustard yellow, beetroot pink),
eat hot cross buns in the street. I hide chocolate eggs

around our hotel room and you forget to check
behind the complimentary shampoos. 

Yes, it’s far removed from egg-hunts in my garden as a child,
the closeness to grass, the rush of buttercups

or were they butterflies? The world seemed constantly unfolding.
Still, here we are, another festival where rituals remain. 

A small hope in the infallibility of creme eggs,
their annual comebacks.

From the notebook: 
To eat:

• Fato o Mano for the best pizza in Brighton. Maybe even in the UK?
• The Flour Pot Bakery for fresh baked goods, hot cross buns if it’s the season.
• Kenny’s Rock & Soul for brunch – vegan, veggie, pancakes, fry ups… the works.

To do:

• The Pavilion gardens to stroll and listen to buskers.
• North Laines for vintage shopping (retro sunglasses galore!)
• Lucy & Yak to try on bright, eco-friendly dungarees.