Winter Colors

Hannah, I so want to talk to you!
This year’s Christmas is mostly blue.
It has always been bright red and green,
But then before, death was not foreseen.
Even that word is severe and black.
It’s unreal, except that you don’t come back.

The sun makes bright sparkles on new white snow.
(Your eyes used to sparkle too,…..just so.
So big and brown above your wide smile;
Your eyes laughed, too, with little girl guile.)
The days begin with dawn’s pink hue.
(A color that was most becoming to you.)
The grey creeps in when memories torment,
And we can’t be with you for even a moment.

Others share joy in your Christmas-ing with Christ.
I miss you too much; I can’t be enticed.
Is it the blue of sadness, or jealously green?
I don’t want you with Him! How dark the screen!
The gold streets of Heaven are so far away…
I know you’re there, but I can’t see you play.

Today we decorated the tree by your grave:
Bright colors…brisk wind…all of us being “brave”.
But we deserve purple hearts, the wound is so deep.
Small healing to know you’re in angels’ keep.
The year ends with our loss, Heaven’s gain,
And a “Merry Christmas” coupled with pain.

Hannah, I wish I could talk to you!
This year Christmas is mostly blue.
Formerly it was bright red and green,
But then last year death was not foreseen.

Margaret Conradi
December 23, 2005