Winter of Toronto town has come settling in my very marrow
I shiver on Queen and Jarvis corner I make my bed on warm air-vents
Difficult to give thanks for charity bread of poverty is hard and bitter
A band plays carols in the mall but I am not allowed to loiter
I’m aching in your chilly absence, God please shine your countenance upon me
Sound your horn of plenty in my ear
In Waking in Harbour One Day: Collected Poems of Ian Sowton, 2020
warm me with hope enough to praise you