a sonnet for Winter in my city...& homelessness
Stone Cold
by Dawn Munro
Stone Cold
I heard a bird sing sweetly in the night.
It made me think of folks without a home--
how winter's cold will kill some. It's not right
that any of humanity should roam
the streets of this rich city any time,
much less when there's a snow squall on the way.
T'was once, "Hey, Buddy, can you spare a dime?"--
the Great Depression. But that's not today...
What happened to compassion--having heart?
Are we so far removed from God, we're dead
inside? When did depravity first start?
Can we not spare our brother--break some bread?
It's getting late, and I am growing old--
outlived my time, perhaps--but not stone cold.
Author Notes
Apparently "experts" have advised our Mayor that opening the armories to the homeless is not a good idea, even though there aren't enough beds in shelters, and temperatures are now dropping below freezing (again)...
How many preventable deaths THIS year while bureaucrats refuse to declare Toronto's homeless situation an emergency? 400 new beds in homeless shelters eventually -- but when, exactly? How many delays while temperatures continue to drop? 400 isn't enough anyway, and even one death is one too many...
Open the armories, at least until those new beds are available! The provincial investigation into how our tax dollars were spent (again) showed mass mis-spending.
But let's meet again in cozy rooms and discuss the problem...