Cold Comfort

A comforter bright both yellow and blue like would belong on a child’s warm bed a light left on to chase away fears that sleep might be found on a warm spring night sleep though is troubled and flees far away quiet voices disturbing growing in the night people do gather and stand far away fearfully planning of what they will do their workplace is waiting they need to go in but there by the doorway he has made his cold bed no bed for his comfort nor pillow for his head laying on the cement seeking his rest quickly they gather and run for the door do quickly pass by him and no one will look in darkness I watch them and wonder if once when I was then homeless how did they see me and I walk by him and go in the door and in my passing I give him a sad smile now I do wonder just where he did go when on the doorstep no room was there for him