My twisted architecture stands firm and
strong
a haven for the flying throng,
lined with snow in winter deep
summer's green and autumn's heap.
A life I stand in this place,
high on a hill
the wind I embrace,
all the seasons come and go
and still I stand but also grow.
My branches stretch for the light,
my roots search deep for damp delight,
I see it all go by each day,
all busy walking far away.
My days i'll spend here on this hill
watching those who never still
but I remain in this place
watching this amusing race.
