We can only barely see the foothills
behind the skyscrapers and cranes,
the glint off metal fenders blinds us.
we moved here to see the hills, to smell
the wildflowers and to squish the mud
between our toes, to open our mouths
to the falling rain and gaze
at rainbows that bridge the plains
to the mountains.
I glimpse the hillside past the crane
and the parked cars.
Soon we will no longer see
such softness, it will be hidden behind
a brick wall.