Looking Up in Canyons
I stood at the base
of a steel and glass
and concrete cliff in the city,
And watched the tourists stream inside,
and in seconds rise
to a sense of power they felt they owned
as they looked down.
Once, in the Sangre de Christo range,
in a canyon cut by timeless tools,
I scanned from below a ledge as high
as up could be.
Then I elevated to the realm
of a subtle, humbling builder
whose edifices make you know
what you are when you climb them.