we see the surface but can only imagine the chaos beneath
we should have been warned but someone else came along and covered it up
it’s where our paths meet that matters; in that moment we’re on common ground
there are some mornings when the view from the window serves as a warning
we forget the frost until that first cold morning when ice crystals form 8°F/-13°C
what is here today could be just a memory this time tomorrow
there are some of us who will only clear the side of the bench they use
two types of people those who stand up to winter and those who fall down
the signs remind me when the seasons change, so do the hazards we face
the silence crept in overnight and left a gift for the morning light
uptown jack 