Black is the color of this night, though the snow belie
and people though so clad their smiles do not hide.
No matter how crowded, the beautiful bright home
is short by one of filled, like a familiar phrase
spoken incompletely.
We all know the missing word.
We recall the power in a joyful friendly presence.
Children hesitant yet perfect
in their comfort of each other,
shocked by the sudden shift of universe,
wondering things we would not have them wonder,
though everyone must wonder them;
a reassuring hand
we place upon their shoulder.
We do not wash our hands as we leave.
There is nothing met here
we must leave behind,
nothing we cannot take with us:
courage, grief, sympathy, community.
Beneath our feet the snow
brightens the darkness of the night.
Though we walk in darkness and cold
We carry remembrance of warmth and light.