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Bernal Hill

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Something has to give.
We stand above it all.
Below, the buildings' tall
but tiny narrative.

The water's always near,
you say. And so are you,
for now. It has to do.
There's little left to fear.

A wind so cold, one might
forget that winter's gone.
The city lights are on
for us, to us, tonight.

Source: Poetry

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This poem originally appeared in the January 2005 issue of Poetry magazine

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Bernal Hill

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