The Libraries Are Warm

For a bum like myself, the libraries are warm. I walk down cold and lonesome avenues and deserted streets and I am cold and lonely. I clench at my heart to stop the flame, that keeps me warm, Keep it from going out. I go and walk, my hands are numb, my face and ears are blacken and frostbitten, and I go into the library. The building filled with books that were written by bums like me who tell their stories, of how they survived the bitter cold. I sit a corner desk, way in the back, all alone, next to the heaters, and I write on and stay warm, till closing time... -10-26-2013-