Advent Calendar - Day 19

I am really, really, REALLY hoping I don't get sick for the holidays. The SO is now fully flu-ish (DIDN'T WE JUST GO THROUGH THIS TWO MONTHS AGO??) and my tonsils are sore (I think it's more fear and imagination than actual germs in my case).

Anyway, today we have a poem from one of my absolute favorite poets, Sara Teasdale. Teasdale's work is romantic and emotional and not exactly what one would call timely--except that some things never change. Things that by now should have changed. Things that we should perhaps think about occasionally--especially during this season--when so much of our online time is spent, credit card in hand.


A Winter NightSara Teasdale
My window-pane is starred with frost,The world is bitter cold to-night,The moon is cruel, and the windIs like a two-edged sword to smite.
God pity all the homeless ones,The beggars pacing to and fro.God pity all the poor to-nightWho walk the lamp-lit streets of snow.
My room is like a bit of June,Warm and close-curtained fold on fold,But somewhere, like a homeless child,My heart is crying in the cold.