Skyscraper

media type="file" key="skyscraper.mp3" align="center" || Grass and dirt, Rock and clay, Stone and bedrock.
 * **Skyscraper** || Listen to a recording of this poem:
 * An empty lot,

But one day, The drills Arrive, Sharp blades puncture the ground, Incinerating the clay and stone in its path.

When it becomes deep enough, Massive concrete trucks arrive at the site, A grey, wet, thick mortar, Almost like molasses, Oozing down the pipe, Building the foundation of an enormous, towering skyscraper.

Hours turn to days, Days turn to weeks, The completed foundation, Resting once where there was only dirt and grass.

The first piece of steel is struck into the ground. As construction proceeds, The steel grows, Above the street, Above the buildings, Up into the puffy, white clouds.

Then shining, glimmering glass, Then rainbows of paint, Chairs, Tables, Offices growing towards the top of the sky.

That old empty lot, With grass and rock, Is now full with the hum of humanity, With a tower, eclipsing the rest of the city. || ||