Egg hunt with Malice

I hid it in the yard
beneath the wysteria
coiled like a snake
behind the perpetually falling flowers

I buried it in the sand
along the driveway
I buried it like a body
limbless and cold

I balanced it on the high branch
of a knobby oak
it sat unsteady, afraid
it's feet wouldn't reach the floor

I placed it beneath a stone,
saw a small crack,
heard its 17th century Salem
whisper, "more weight"

I put it in your hand
gold and glittering
waited until I could see
the nails rising from your palm