Monuments of Man

I must often leave the monuments of man—

the cities, sidewalks and pothole-riddled streets

the testaments to architecture

tall buildings that reach for the sky

the weaponry—

What they have produced, in part with

Greed and inequality and crime and exorbitant rents

I admit my attraction, yet I must often leave

the monuments of man—

to see what grows in silence,

the verbena and corgette,

the apple and cherry trees

that also reach for the sky—

What they have produced, in part

Wonder and awe, comfort and shade, peace and

Contentment

Last night, the moon — a waxing one

at the close of August, hovered over the horizon

of the Surrey hillside, stars so bright

Hard to see that amongst the monuments of man