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As we move in to the colder months my thoughts turn to the many homeless people that live rough on the streets and in the hedgerows of Britain. It is estimated that in the UK about 10% of these people are veterans, a figure which has, unbelievably, risen by about 6% during the last 5 years.
The fact that in these ‘modern times’ people are forced, often by circumstance, to live on the streets is unacceptable. In order to help raise awareness of their plight I wrote this poem. The title reflects the fact that too many communities regard the homeless as an unwanted burden and fail to support them.
The Cold Weight
He lies in a doorway
out of the wind,
a cold nose companion
snuggled right in.
Cardboard blanket,
patched overcoat,
stuffed with paper,
knotted with rope.
He remembers the time
snow ripped past,
when in sodden clothes
they gave their last.
They were immortal,
or so they’d thought.
As through that hell
they bravely fought.
Now, here, in this doorway,
racked by a guilt,
lies a veteran
in a cardboard quilt.
John Carré Buchanan
05 December 2013
