We turned at the same time,
he to the bitter cold streets
with nowhere to go,
nowhere to hide;
me to my citadel, warm
and welcoming inside.

"Has he gone?" she asked,
still sleepy and tousle haired,
as I stared in the mirror;
seeing only the eyes of
a wounded bird who had
forgotten how to sing;
knowing I could never be
the one to break his other wing,
"it's for the best you know."

"Nothing is neccessarily for the best"
I replied, thinking back to a second
chance a long, long time ago,
"'It's cold outside, I'll take a drive,
wait up, I wont be long."
Instantly, she smiled a
world of understanding;
awaiting my return as I twisted
the key and drove to salvation.