The sky's night blanket
was interrupted by the few beginning stars.
A cold wind whistled
through the suddenly emptied parking lot,
easily chilling my skin through my dress.
Standing beside the column,
unable to escape the wind,
the only part of me that was warm
was my hand.
It rested snugly
inside the hand of another.
I watched the stars spread
and felt the night's chill grow colder.
I, however, became warmer
for as the minutes drew on,
I was enveloped in the arms of another.
He held me close,
banishing the wind's cool, rough hands
from my face.
He became my night,
with his eyes as my stars
and his arms my shelter.
Even as I rode away,
his smell lingered in my nose
and the memory solidified itself in my mind.
A memory to be kept close;
a memory of glowing stars
and warmed hearts.
