The Hills From Which I Look Down
hills forming in the horizon leaving
cityscapes hidden behind unkept grass and
cows sheltering from the burning sun
these hills are not for weary legs
the hills are forming in your mouth and
your teeth stand as pillars
holding the sky aloft
what is that rattling sound from my chain
sweeping me out of my metaphor
these hills are not for weary legs
and the cows are sheltering from the sun
the sun, burning and the hills
lifting me towards the light and soon
flinging me towards the dark ground as I
pass through villages with indifferent people
unaware of our impending downfall
falling, falling
your eyes like clouds in the sky
offering moments of shelter from the heat
but soon bringing humid air
this is my neglect
I offer it to you as a
summer gift
my feet on the pedals
taking me somewhere
else
