I see your footprints in the snow
everywhere I go.
This year, I replaced the star
at the top of the tree
with an angel.
I thought maybe she had seen you
fly through the atmosphere that night.
Perhaps she had been your guide.
I took a walk this afternoon
and hummed your favorite carol
while the woods echoed it back;
I thought it might have been your whisper
hidden somewhere in the wind
that skated across the untouched snow.
Not so very long ago
it would have been your fingers
laced between mine
and your melody
mixing with frost,
echoed by me,
and your footsteps
crunching beside me,
perfect and parallel with mine.