A Homeless Holiday

While others gather in their homes,
decked out in festive glitz
to be preserved in Kodachromes
amidst the Christmas blitz,

a shopping cart holds all I own,
and cardboard box will keep
precipitation off this crone,
just like the manger sheep.

Collecting coins in mason jar
among the bustling crowd
beside the door to Smitty's Bar
behind my mental shroud,

I won't be roasting turkey there.
Abandoned pizza slice
will be the best I can ensnare.
I'm sure it will suffice.

Aromas from the donut store
and putrid urine scent
in darkened alleyway next door
foment a sad lament.

Marine and Army vets reside
among the refuge here.
A hardy bunch with lots of pride,
they rarely shed a tear.

We try to dodge a case of flu
around a barrel fire
and do our best to make it through
in tattered alms attire.

We're grasping any means to cope,
like singing Christmas songs.
Those carols bring a ray of hope
while facing many wrongs.

In spite of all we've sacrificed--
our dreams no longer thrive--
we celebrate the birth of Christ
to keep our faith alive.

         

Author's note: 36 lines of Hymnal Measure, a more rigid version of the Common Measure form, as described and demonstrated in the following link: https://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/660-common-measure-and-its-variations-inc...