At the base of the great Gateway Arch
Where the mighty Mississippi goes by,
I was thinking of the days of Lewis and Clark,
As my eyes traveled up to the sky, And I asked the arch, way up above,
Why these men left all their comforts of home.
Were they destined to perform a labor of love?
Or, like me, did they just itch to roam. Gateway Arch. St. Louis Arch.
I wish you could bring their answers to me. My eyes came back down to the scene
Where the Mississippi flows on its march.
I tucked my weary hands in faded blue jean,
And I bid farewell to the arch. Gateway Arch. St. Louis Arch.
You're just like that Rainbow Bridge in the west.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem