Dark

It is on
clear winter nights
such as these
that I remember
stepping out into the cold
--my breath, a vapor
visible in the air.
The chill of the night
caressing my cheeks--
to walk about
while other slept,
and think the deep thoughts
no one dared to dream.
I remember that winter well,
the cigarettes and my dog
the only warmth
I would feel until spring.
It's odd how we long
for pain sometimes...
I'll never be able to explain
why on nights like this
I wish I could go back
and live in the dark
for one more night.