We walked and talked that Christmas Eve.
Marveling at the fake Christmas tree.
Some lawns glistened with tacky snow.
But not a snow flake fell. The air was warm, the breeze was light.
The starlight twinkled throughout the night.
We walked and talked that silent night,
Just my mother and me.
I hear her voice, her gentle tone.
But her words are lost to the passing years.
Despite the years, the feelings remain,
That cause these sudden tears.