Warm light makes the cold colder;
The breath steams, and the beating heart
Keeps the fire burning in the blood –
Keeps my little human flame alive.
Other fires burn in houses,
Flickering on the happy cheeks
Of wine-flushed, gift-besotted people
Raising again the grateful cup.
A shadow steals by lighted windows,
Turning to face them, turning away,
Back to the gathering, snow-stung dark,
And his own hearth, not too far ahead.
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