Three years later in through the looking glass.

Here I am, ruminating again on the darkest day of the year.

We rise in the early morning,
the streets empty and quiet
(everyone has left town),
and take the first train out of the station.

Later I watch the decorations twinkle through windows and on porches
as the bus rumbles along the residential streets toward the hospital.
Will I look back on this as another hard, long winter, I wonder?

But today my daughter can see the light.
And what I find myself feeling is immense relief
and hope
that every day after brings us more light.