Christmas is past and gone

And new years just a hang over

For this year’s shining silver angel

Who is tired and found

On her hands and knees

In a back-street patch

Of spotlight infused relief

Bruised and punctured knees

Her hair hangs low

Her breath smells of last night’s stew

And she rises to find a taxi

With little memory left

Of how she found the key

The door

And her bed

The hands that held hers

As she retched

That wrapped her shoulders with her coat

The arms that held her tight in the back of the cab

The whispered prayer as she turned the key in the lock

Who stood and watched until she turned out her light

She remembers nothing except

The feeling she was warm and blessed