As a native of St. Louis,
I see our monument as a staple of the skyline.
I shouldn’t feel surprised when it pops
over the horizon as we drive into the city,
but without fail I squeal like a child,
“There’s The Arch.”
As my eyes hit the clouds I want to explore
the structure, to ride in the novelty elevators,
giggling like a tourist, my camera in hand,
looking over the lands through the peephole windows
at the people-ants crawling below.
I contemplate the two years of sweat and
calculation aligned to build this beauty,
the pride of a city,
this city,
my city.
It’s humbling to stand as a part
of those hands and minds combined in those years,
to think of the support needed to construct
the architectural feat.
And I reflect on the possibilities of what we as people
could attain. Imagine if we locked our hearts
in appreciation of one another,
wrapped our arms around shoulders
weathered by stress and commitment,
we’d be able to construct arches in daily life
and look into the skyline of our eyes in wonder.