Blankets Poem by Edwina Reizer

Some blankets are thin
that cover the poor.
They're lucky to have them.
They sleep on the floor.
No pillow to sleep on
to cradle their head,
nothing to sleep on
that's called a bed.

Some blankets are downy
that cover the rich.
No shivering at night
in their warm little niche.
Their heads have been cradled
since they were born.
They sleep in comfort
all cozy and warm.

Some blankets are heavy.
They weigh you down.
You can't move your toes
or wriggle them around.
You lay there quite still
and wrestle with thought.
You think of blankets
that are light.
and if the poor
will be alright?