On a street named Vista, a hill with no summit
disappears into the fathomless ground below.

Looking at a foundation of premixed concrete
being poured, three philosophers are thinking:

Will it be as highminded as those around it?
Will it be grounded in the ideas of the past?
Will it rise above the stratum of its finitude?

In the Stygian chambers of Paleolithic caves,
no one crawled in who didn't also gallop out.