There were Chinese lanterns at New Year
when it was so cold the fireworks froze in the air,
bursts of red and silver beside the dazzling lights
of London. From our perch on Parliament Hill
we stood, anonymous in the crowd,
looking down at the giddy world
and at the final minute of the year it
was just you and I
and then it started to snow.
Families let off the slow moving lanterns,
children held them tight in their hands- but
they were pulling, pulling
caught by the night wind, their ghostly silhouettes
drifted up and up,
til they became stars themselves to us.
They were moments of peace against the
busy noise of the city,
softly golden, trustingly floating further and further.
I didn't know that you too would soon be gone
and nothing I could say would change your mind.

If I had thought to then
I would have made a wish on each lantern I saw
rising like a thousand spirit kings above the earth.
I would have wished and wished,
and sent my heart out there too:

I will always remember
the soft chills of snow beginning to fall
and the quiet beauty of those Chinese lanterns.
I will remember your hand slipping into mine,
and the silent slide of that year
into the past, yes,
I will remember.