The Hummock

The hummock

There is a hill behind the houses round and soft,
I call it a mother hill it welcomes you and murmur 
How do you do?” and let you sit on a boulder 
to enjoy the peace.
If you sit too long enjoying your sentimentality,
it wakes, the boulder gets cold and hard to sit on.
The wind suddenly blows, has a fragrance of Siberia and Vodka.
So, you walk around to keep warm and see wildflowers
hiding behind big stones.
You cannot pick them if you do? They will wizen and bring rain.
Walk gently now the aroma of spring is in the grass.
Behind the knoll, it is October grey and out of sight where no trees grow.
It is the mother´s hill burden concealed from the world.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

Poem

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