There he sat, smug, anointed, and oblivious to the cold
yet a coat of dampness clung to his ruddy skin while he
muttered and spit into the silent snow watching it sink
deep into the contours of whiteness as re-tied his shoes
in double knots, preparing to continue his journey into the
wee hours of darkness.

Inside sat a woman, watching and waiting for the shadows
to depart, frozen in her silence knowing one kick, just one
tough kick with shoes tied tightly would break down the door
and leave her trembling in her worn cotton robe.

Anyone who had a heart held tight to its rapid, steady beating
as he steadied himself, made no introduction and turned to leave.
She watched him take slow, steady steps with the streetlight now
at his back.