Giants

If the mountains were 
trees I’d know north
for from my little 
birdhouse tucked quietly under 
the arm of this 
concrete monolith I can 
see that moss has 
crept up the sides 
of the foot hills 
Oh I know that
mountains aren’t trees and 
the moss that I 
see indeed are but 
there’s something to be 
said about the scale 
of life for don’t
we all believe that 
we’re giants living in 
our own little worlds