"Even this late it happens:/ the coming of love, the coming of light." — Mark Strand, "The Coming of Light"

"We drift off to childhood/ where we spent our gelt/ on baseball cards and matinees/ cream sodas and potato knishes." — Steven Schneider, "Chanukah Lights Tonight"

"When even the moon/ starves to a sliver/ of quicksilver/ the little candles poke/ holes in the blackness." — Marge Piercy, "Season of skinny candles"

"The first year, I grated potatoes, chopped onions/ & watched. The second year, I fed all but the eggs// into the machine & said I'll do the latkes & did..." — John Repp, "Honorary Jew"

"It is the festival/ of lights, I have no// candles. I light one for each night,/ pray on a row/ of nine lighthouses." — Rachel Galvin, "Letter Spoken in Wind"