I rear a sturdy silhouette
Against a mountain-shouldered sky;
I mark the wheeling stars that lose
Their brilliance in a morning sky.
I brace my knees against the winds
That hold their races miles high,
And when the lightning scores my steel,
I ground it as I dare the sky.
I house a pair of weathered eyes,
Whose sole responsibility
Is pledged to look, and look, and look;
A lighthouse in a verdant sea.

The winter gales that sweep in blasts
Across my vast domain,
Make of me a ghostly thing
Against the winter's sunset stain.
The driving winds with sleet, and snow
Encase my metal limbs,
And seal as in an alpine tomb
The emptiness within.
The first chinook that sweeps the peaks
Dissolves my frosty 'guise,
And I await the lazy days
To bask beneath the summer skies.