Top of the Heap

We climb to the tops of trees and call ourselves
kings of the world
while overhead continents of vapor shift

We stand on high peaks and claim everything
we see below
forgetting unscaled mountains of cloud above

Every swimming minnow leaves a trail of mud
a contrail streak
seen by bottom-feeders in an ocean of blue air.

Books Available
Country Well-Known as an Old Nightmare's Stable
High-Voltage Lines
Knocking from Inside