There was a time that we, like children,

Assumed a bond prior to its presence,

But now prefer that which is private

Like the timid association of cars

Who follow but never touch their neighbors,

Or two ships passing in the night.

Like dogs on sidewalks pushing against their harnesses,

Trying hard to meet, to succeed at all despite,

Or subway rails that never cross.

I’ve felt the warmth for those I love,

And I am trying hard to feel it always,

But somedays the flame still cools

And leaves us rigid as the coldness of skyscrapers

Dodging glances across 34th street.

On Thanksgiving day the warmth surrounds

And I remember everyone. I let it warm me to the core.

And try to say to those around me:

If we are ships on Winter nights,

I’ll stand outside, and hold my candle.

If we are trains on different lines,

I’ll hold my doors, as long as I can handle.

My prayer is that I’ll have that strength.

My prayer is that I’ll feel the warmth.

At the very least, I’ll meet your eyes,

And hear about your day.

At the very least I’ll make a seat at my own table,

And I’ll be happy when you arrive.