hills
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Peach clouds tumble over an
autumn morning.
Cool, almost impeccably sharp
Yet
Soft, light, feathery, cushioning the
blow:
A collision of ecstasy
Frozen grass breathing again with
The uneven rocks give this hill character. Though storms may erode them they are still strong and beautiful. Etched into their being is lesson after lesson. Every curve tells a story. Ever changing. Ever growing.
If I could see over this farmed hills,
I wouldn't have to be afraid of life's thrills.
I am here for you brother-man
Here to lend a simple hand.
