I’m going to the mountain today
by the dirt road.
I rest at each plateau
and remind myself
that what seems like nowhere
is me talking to the mountain,
rain on my shoulders,
hair like autumn grass
that blinds me as I climb
to the ridge of sea fossils
pushed up from other lives.
Issue:
May 1, 2015 [1]
Tags
Poetry [2]
Nellie Hill’s work has appeared in a variety of magazines and literary journals. She has published two books, and her fourth chapbook, Winter Horse, is being published this month.
Please email comments to [email protected] [3] and join the conversation on our Facebook page [4].