It's not the lights that I remember
They burnt throught the night without warmth
The intricate stitching of the dog's argile sweater
But rather the blackness of December
And the air, thin and merry as a blade
It sliced with every crackle
Of the water's freeze
Matt Greenblatt
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/first-night-of-chanukah/
