Poem: The hills of home
Of my own salt, these hills are made
I am made of them
grey stone
red dust
black wash--
from the jagged edge I look down
the land stares up at me
it is as me, stark and thorny,
it prickles as I do,
it is of my own salt.
-------- ---------- --------- ---------- -----------
* From A Sad Piper, 1994
Comments
Post a Comment