Cherie Hunter Day

A Capella Sunshine

Ghosts are given three days a year for singing. They shed the bundles they’ve been carrying all year and look for the brightest, loudest colors. In this crowd their bones come clean. The dust clears from their throats and they can once again harmonize. Small voice or big voice: there’s no reason to hold back. The revelers don’t distinguish between the living and the dead. There’s enough joy for everyone.