It was a night like this
Back in old T. O.
When a woman froze to death
In the cold and frigid snow

I passed her in the morning
I saw her laying on the grate
With all she owned around her
I did not then know her state

It was early nineteen eighty one
The polar winds did blow
A woman froze to death that night
In the cold and frigid snow

It was right outside the local "Y"
The doors were locked up tight
She lay upon the heating grates
To make it through the night

Passers by ignored her
They just looked away instead
In the morning when I passed her
I did not know that she was dead

I think back on that image
Of her laying with her stuff
I ask myself "when will we stop"
"and say enough's enough"

The homeless are not garbage
Disposable, their not
A woman froze to death outside
Is this the best we've got?

A woman froze to death one night
And no one seemed to care
Life goes on with her now gone
As though she was not there

Like the woman back on Church Street
In the cold Toronto snow
The image now is frozen
Like the woman in T.O.

the air is cold.

an endless slate-grey
chilling frost-ridged trees.

the wind tunnels, whisking away
bird song,
running cars,
and leaves scraping down bare streets;

the kind of bare you only see in winter,
all picked away by the frozen weather.

the world is a drained snow globe,
so still you forget to breathe.

all you can hear
is the static in your ears
and the workings of your own
organs.

you called me cold,
your frozen fingers giving mine frostbite

My heart was ice
But I met you
Before I was ready
And patiently, you
Waited for my availability
I kept hold
Of all the cold
Until I chose
To let go
And let you in
To melt what had frozen,
And you were there for all of it.

Chattering yet still
Frozen and wrapped by venom
Decayed by sharp fangs