Silence

Silence

A puddle on the sidewalk
on early morning walk to work,
barely warmed by a reluctant sun.
Wrapped up in many serious and important thoughts
about productivity and legacy and meaning.

A paper-thin sheet of ice
near-ephemeral,
shields
the dirty water beneath,
filled with a city's refuse.

Step carefully.
Pause.
This is holy ground.
Do not speak too loud.
Breathe gently - feather-breath.

Lest the veneer crack,
and a hidden horde of mysteries -
made up of broken syringes,
used condoms,
globs of chewed-up gum,

and something else -
something not-yet-named,
glimmering at the very edge of cognition,
vanish forever
into the grey morning.