Foundation

The fog has swallowed up the height.

I’ve lost the buildings in the white.

I keep my eyes upon the street

to guide the movement of my feet.

The iron plate is slick with rain.

A heavy lid above a drain.

My heel slipped on a rusted ridge.

It felt as hollow as a bridge.

Beneath the city, dark and deep,

the secrets of the plumbing sleep.

I caught my breath and stood quite still.

The air has such a sudden chill.