Over The Brow Of A Hill

Over the brow of a hill and then the sea Here, I once heard music in a nearby river. A babbling brook, The wild wind moving through flowering yellow gorse The clouds are like choir singers on either side. I am the conductor in all its majesty and throws. Drawn to a rhythm of nature doe like dancing to walk I am a chess piece salt shaker. A little bit of salt and a little bit of pepper A little bit of life that is observing itself While losing the time left to carve some boiled ham. And curl my toes to keep out the cold. I am now nearing the sea, where at last, I will happily dissolve into the shadows, Into the sea. And just for a moment, The cradles of the falling leaves will rock like empty husks, Remembering me, the one who climbed into their boughs, Laughing and crying, glad to be alive, but not always.