A Warm Hug...

Off again, on his usual beat,
Filled behind him were his traces;
There was none on the street,
Yet, as ever, the stars made faces.

On the pavement was a shawl,
Too small to wrap around himself;
Juggling, maybe, many a scrawl,
Might he have dropped it, some elf?

In each house, lights did glow,
Chatter, chortle, song, he did hear;
Shut was each door and window,
He, banished from hope and cheer.

Even hobos had been taken in,
In houses of God, gladly welcome;
What, he wondered, was his sin,
That left he'd been all so lonesome?

As a fire did somewhere crackle,
Even snowflakes felt too heavy to lug;
Shivering in his frost shackle,
The cold wind prayed for a warm hug.