As I light my candles
I know.
I know that in a house somewhere there's no one lighting.
No one
Laughing.
Crying.
Sharing.
Praying.
Only in the homes of mourners there are
Tears.
Moans.
Gasps.
Cries.
There's a house left
Barren.
Torn.
Destroyed.
Alone.
I feel their presence.
Whispering.
Praying.
Teaching.
Living.
I miss them.
The Holtzbergs.
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