I stood atop the southern one of you,
Your towerings reaching out to God,
You were symbols of immortal feelings,
Of position and pride; millions of high rides,
To the Top of the World.
You were the legs of Colossus,
Planted deep, standing fast,
Defining the skies around you,
All trades and traders surrounding you,
Their marching bands playing your rhyme.
Remembering you isn’t remembering at all,
From root to the skies, you’re all in my mind,
Tall. The place from where I saw your city,
Bustling and peaceful at the same time.