She sits in the dark with the snow swirling about her.
I look and have the most overpowering urge to run inside.
I want to turn on the lights and the heat and fill her old halls
With laughing teenagers who will warm her with their hopes and their dreams,
And their endless snuggling in the corners with their young loves.
I want to wear sweaters and roam her old halls.
I want to know that my coat awaits me in my locker.
I want to know that somewhere on each floor someone is working,
Diligently decorating the bulletin boards for Christmas.
But most of all I want to feel as safe, as young and as hopeful as I felt
In her halls and rooms on those cold wintry days.
Dear old Cohn, we haven't forgotten you.
My first impulse is to warm and protect you,
Because it was always you who warmed and protected us.
We miss you, old friend, and we hope some of your
Memories of us will keep you warm tonight.
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