The City


Upon a mountain peak I stand,
My gaze a city meets;
Far in the distance, o’er the land
Its glist’ning towers gleam.

Up from the valley, sharp they rise
To meet the clouds above,
Or shade beneath from heat so dry
Like ancient desert grove.

And as the day fades westward on, 
The spires begin to shine;
Reflecting radiance of the sun
And blinding timid eye.

We trav’lers stand amazed at such
Display of steel and stone; 
But lovely can the view be; look!
Before the day is gone.


Photo of Los Angeles, CA from The Getty Center

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