after a snowstorm . the sidewalk doesn’t exist . until it is cleared
walking in a dream . light snow crunching underfoot . the trees are patient
the details get lost . muffled in uncertainty . when a fog rolls in
certain conditions . will retain the leaves’ patterns . after swept away
in each autumn leaf . there is a unique beauty . unseen by the rake inspired by the marginalian
waters run deepest . where the river is narrow . and bridges are built
the sky reflected . seen in passing, can pretend . it is the real thing
where the lines converge . information is gathered . not to be ignored
waiting for the snow . the shovel stands patiently . with nothing to do
trusting in strangers . we allow ourselves to be . suspended mid-air
uptown jack 