In My Room

IN MY ROOM Comfortable in this warm bright room, But mind always straying through the curtains To the wet dark streets of Homeless, rejected and unwanted, And the cold wind from the east Cutting into the damp coat and thin shirt, Of a kid whose father has disappeared, Or whose mother has sold her wedding ring Long ago to buy bread or pay rent, The old guy waiting for a letter from a son Or a call from the newly wed daughter, Waiting for pension day at the post office, Or for the arrival of a long awaited friend Who has actually just died unknown to him, As he looks across the street Straining without proper glasses To see through my curtains into this room.