The Ross Island Bridge,
low foothills, and now
the very sky itself, blocked
by condos mushrooming
on the landscape.

Faced with the prospect,
I practice Qigong,
soar like a crane
past the Rose Quarter
out to Mt. Saint Helens.

Rising above, my vision
no longer obscured,
I observe the scaffolding
to be inexorably carted off before
I assume my place on the skyline.