By a Bridge in Winter

The city streets lie muffled under snow
The lofty street light, next’ the river, bends his head,
Giving his gift of a sharp-bright glow,
To the young man with meat and bread,
The shakes and fries-to-go,
The weary reveller leans o’er the parapet,
As trolleys rust through the ice below,
In the shadows his grimace set,
He spews into the cold dark flow,
Turning after, he plants unsteady feet into the snow,
Weaving homeward with many yards still to go,
With many yards still to go.