Sonnet # 8 An Empty Bed Poem by John A. Hancock

An empty bed lies in wait
Just a wooden bench covered in icy snow
The last refuge for a homeless person
Who has no where else to go
It has a lovely view to gaze upon
Tiny footprints lace the fallen snow
From curious critters who pause to stare upon
The huddled figure shivering from head to toe
The stars shine upon this tragic scene
Their celestial presence the occupant cannot see
For some where in a dream of a toasty fire
This tortured soul finally was set free
They are now within the warmth of God's embrace
While the bench waits for another to fill the empty space