On a bald knoll, circled by on-ramps and overpasses,
weathering and weighted is a concrete behemoth
for the gods of want. Hilltop Mall is one name for it.
We know it as the place where starlings flock in spring
at 4:30 every afternoon, from every direction
billowing through the sky like ink in water,
making mockery of our little man-made desires.
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