One day my love and I quarreled and bitterly parted.
by Mary Naylor
I went to my bed. I wanted to cry. Instead I said, 'Fine, let it be! '
and I went out and mounted Nightwing for a ride to the sea.
But suddenly, I felt a hollowness within, and slowly I slid back
to the ground. It came to me, my love had taken a part of me,
half of my hopes, half of my dreams, and so much of my love.
Into the empty night I cried, 'can anyone tell me-is there
enough left of me inside? '
I looked at Nightwing, and his eyes were wild. I climbed on his
back and clung to his mane. Like a fury he hurled himself into
the night. His hooves pounded the sand like the thunder of drums.
There was only Nightwing and me and the air rushing past!
He ran over the sand and into the waves, on the edges of cliffs, and
in and out of days that had slipped by too fast. He climbed
to the brim of the icy stars that shattered the night with a
brilliant, brittle symphony.
Exhausted, we fell to the ground. I leaned my head on Nightwing's
neck, which turned into my pillow where I lay at rest.
Nightwing had vanished and so had the stars-but I smiled
as I began to see, no one could ever take Nightwing from me.