Frozen fingers and frozen toes,
Frozen eyes with somewhere to be.
Foggy windows gently kissed by gently falling rain,
Creating a presence in a fallen city,
A long-forgotten grandeur.

Packed into cars, hovering above and looking down,
Measuring yards and counting row-houses
As though the view above gave us control,
Could possibly help us understand.

Soon it became routine.
The hum-buzz grinding of the metal hitting the tracks,
The same disapproving faces of a race in constant motion.
Just a matter of putting on my face and getting it done.

It was a sight of something different,
Opposite of everything I had ever known.
The truth I witnessed every day
Left me amazed and slightly dizzy.

So with frozen fingers and frozen toes,
These frozen eyes venture forth.
Coming down from my high bearings,
Perhaps the city creates a presence within me.