Head and Heart

My heart is cold but feet are hot to trot

The mold around my legs cracks and falls like
Eggshells, I crush them with a step.
One foot first, the way it always goes,
Now the trick, the shift of weight,
Shift, weight, shift, weight, shift, weight
Wait
There are no longer windows in this place
Walled up with brick, mortar, think, quick!
Too late, momentum gaining, knees-calves straining
My opened hand outstretched, I push through
Tear through
Rip through the wall that divides length from width and time from space

My heart is ice, my feet are keeping pace.

This was a place designed for transit
Made for communication, screaming to
Reach out and touch somebody else, the
"No, nevermind", the "Sorry, my bad", the
Hopes and wishes all flowed once through
these now-empty streets, now barren under sheets of snow

My heart is cold, my feet know where to go.

I follow the widening streets, hoping that, like veins,
The gains and swells indicate a way to square one, ground zero,
Point A.
Past houses empty dry dessicated skulls in rows
Leering with wide eyes and eternally surprised rectangular O's
Open in shock (or disappointment, who knows
but the snows who fill their frightened faces with frost)

My heart survives, my feet, I fear, are lost.