Summit Chase, the luxury high rise,
was squarely framed in my bedroom window.
The only building bridging hometown skies
enchanted me with its heavenward flow;
The space-man John Glenn lived there, or so we heard,
and everybody dreamed of the roof-top pool,
high above with the singing birds,
too high to hear as we walked home from school.
Writing a story for the school newspaper
they let me inside. The basement was dark.
The power was dead. No elevator
could raise me. I heard a hidden dog bark.
On the ground I saw a pool, cracked and drained.
The lights leapt on above, the sky was stained.
