After the carols and the pageant
of the birth, we walk through the night
of Lexington to Suzanne and Fran’s.
The streets are darker since a giant
oak gave up the ghost and downed the lights.
The colored bulbs at the Phi Gams’,
still burning, though the brothers went
a week ago, wouldn’t guide us back except
we already know the necessary turns
and window candles on McDowell
cast their welcoming glow into the night.
Then, as Enid taught us, we hold hands
and from our circle of Quaker grace
send silent wishes from our inner light
to all our friends beyond this place
Copyright © Bill Keen | Year Posted 2019
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