Once I climbed a hill
And looked down with triumph at what I had done.
I saw sands stretched long in the heat
A silver city beneath my feet
So I raised my hand to the sun
I saw my pinky blot out the great Golden Gate
And my thumb, flatten downtown's heights
But I felt no power
No sweet satisfaction as a tower
No sense of being a giant with might
Instead in me there rose
A creeping, gnawing overwhelm with it all
As I lost all my pretense
And found a discomforting acceptance
Of feeling very, very,
small
