Surfing the Couches - A poem of the streets and time off them both.

Riding the wave of couches

Offered freely, without prompting,
the wave beckoned to me
calling thoughts of warmth and comfort,
so I took the challenge on,
riding waves of couches.

During the cold Winters,
we Homeless often gain such,
a period of hospitality greatly treasured
when we "Couch surf" nightly
to avoid being frozen.

Each couch has stories,
each offer backed with cheer
or made out of some deeper fear
that we will not see
the next day's light.

So, we climb on,
grateful for this strange tide
of cushions, pillows and treasured quilts
dreading the inevitable end ahead
when we fall back.

for the streets kill
during the dark winter months
taking toll even on the living
sapping us of better things
like willpower and life.

For three glorious weeks
I avoided the nightly chill
for the most part, with gratitude
as floors and couches offered
ran into each other.

It started just before
the holiday of great feasts
a weekend off, and some more
five days, when all's told
not shivering through nights.

Then came bigger wave
when across three places offered
a week and half of couches
got surfed by this boy
as he stayed upright.

It ended at last
with four days of camping
amid the near zero nightly chill
brought on by an inversion,
heralded with Smog's veils.

But still, in all,
It was a good run,
time to decompress, regroup, and renew
my faith in humanity's future,
as well as mine.

So, thanks for offers
worry not at my disappearances
from my normal haunts those nights,
for I rode those couches
to remove the worries...
... and thaw out a bit.
16December2013 - Dyfedd Rex, with thanks.