Poetry for the dark winter days

I'm rushing to meet deadlines at the moment. Thankfully, it will soon all be over; I'm 3/4 through an essay and I have a fair idea of what is going into it, it's just a matter of structuring! Anyway, I've realised that a poem on this blog is way overdue. I thought of diving into the Dickinson archive, but as I don't have her book with me at the moment, I've decided on someone contemporary. This is the only poem by Simon Armitage that I've ever read. Enjoy (or ponder?)!

Give

Of all the public places, dear
to make a scene, I've chosen here.

Of all the doorways in the world
to choose to sleep, I’ve chosen yours.
I'm on the street, under the stars.

For coppers I can dance or sing.
For silver-swallow swords, eat fire.
For gold-escape from locks and chains.

It's not as if I'm holding out
for frankincense or myrrh, just change.

You give me tea. That's big of you.
I'm on my knees. I beg of you.

Simon Armitage, The Dead Sea Poems