Tower

Gray rails curve left
They guide the slowing commuter train
One more mile before the downtown station

Through the window
I study the west skyscrapers
Against the morning’s light-blue background

The tallest building rises black
Its straight edges sharp
All the way up

And just above
Is the wisp of a cloud
White and round

Wait…that’s not a cloud
It’s the moon!

That tower is nowhere close
To touching it