In the darkest months of a winter, I saw
many creatures drag themselves on weary
legs to steal the warmth of a trash can’s
flames, rubbing little mittens together,
furiously, blowing into their tight fists to
create temporary relief from the biting, frigid air.
They scrambled from dark alleyways,
gathering around the glowing light
like thousands of moths around a
single street lamp, feeding their endless
curiosity. They appeared from the
darkness like apparitions sent from
invisible voids in the air, determined
creatures on a march towards the
warmth of the flickering amber flames.
They formed a circle around their
Savior—a trash can—alone, yet
together, a union of lost souls
amidst the gray slush and earthen sidewalk.
Putting their arms around each other,
I watched them huddle close together
like beaten soldiers on their frozen battlefield,
just simple creatures surviving on
the mean streets of their world.
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