You return to these dark streets

That your heart knows so well.

There can be no sanctuary here,

But there is a kind of comfort

In the soft silence of your tears,

In knowing no one will follow.

Streets you have given names

But refuse you destinations,

Always leading back to yourself,

Following the well-worn memories

The wind scatters to the sound

Of your familiar footfalls.

You know these dark ways well,

But not the faint glow in a window

Where I have lit a single candle;

Not to draw you near nor even

Light your way, but to remind you:

You are not alone, even here.