By Merle Feld
The night is so dark
and I am afraid.
I see nothing, smell nothing,
the only reality -
I am holding my mother's hand.
And as we walk
I hear the sounds
of a multitude in motion -
in front, behind,
all around,
a multitude in motion.
I have no thought of tomorrow,
now, in the darkness,
there is only motion
and my mother's hand.
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