A handful of nothing.

It hits you
like the pin pricks of iron
    in a childs toy
--the almost sudden
magnetic realization that you are
             never
a tree,
only a sapling
reaching slightly below the sky
set against high-rise peers
always towering
       just above your grasp
you stretch,
 extending your limbs in attempts
     to touch beyond the world,
but all you came back with
is handfuls of clouds.