The poem was inspired after an early morning workout at the Downtown YMCA on Montgomery Street. It was 7 a.m. in the dead of winter—dark, snowy and icy cold. Every morning as I left the Y, I walked by the Samaritan Center and people would be lining up, waiting for breakfast.

I know what it's like to have someone that you love on the streets. My brother was homeless for a time. I lay awake in bed every night and wondered where he was. Was he warm enough? Did he eat that day? I prayed that somebody would be kind to him.

For the homeless in Syracuse, every night is a battle to survive until the morning light brings the hope of a warm meal and a connection to others. My hope was to bring attention to a very real aspect of community with humanity and compassion.