On of the Shoulders of Giants

Standing on the slopes of boulders,
Spirits heavy and minds long gone,
The sun becomes a measured shadow,
I wonder what I stand upon.

Beauty beyond and pleasure close,
I look, entranced by the musty view
From the silent peace of heroes left
Exhaustion with their present spew.

And what of my day, then?
Just beyond their critique, their swerving eye.
What am I to capture in this widest world
When the past is all I pry?

[Read the post titled Journal Entry for an introduction to this series]