the field of white snow ends abruptly; the textures of the wall threaten
no longer frozen my windows reveal a view that’s largely unchanged
the deep freeze settles on every windowpane with unique impact
once we’re adjusted to a new normal, the old seems to fade away
ice locks the windows to the outside world; patience knows they will open
the frozen window tells the truth, yet some of us will lick the lamppost
anyone watching which way the wind is blowing expects some setbacks
a change in the wind cannot bring about real change unless it’s sustained
as the wind changes direction, we can almost see the ice melting
what we need to see is often not the same as what we’re taught to see
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