Holiday Wish

No snow. A little fog. The afternoon

is a few short hours and evening falls.

But look how the sun hangs down

its old rope good for one more pull.

Look at the latticework of leaves

in the stricken ash, golden in the gray,

like coins in a purse or notes from some old hymn. 

I hope my friends are warm this day.

I hope the ones I love, will always love—

the one gone far away, the two sweet

souls holding hands near the end,

humming through a feverish night,

the ones whose needs I cannot guess

or have no needs this lucky day 

on earth—I hope for them, for all of us,

a little peace, a touch of hope, another day

come round with easy light. So quiet now. 

So still. A flake of snow, then two.

I hope you hear a bell from far away 

begin to peal. This bell I pull for you.