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Jun 2012
I stood at the top of a hill
I wasn't actually there
Not physically
I was carried by my mind
And the will to push through
The grey tedium of what my
sad life had become

The hill
It was green
The grass was tall
and the wind smelled
like colours I can't describe
with my meek words
The sky was soft
and blurred into the horizon
It gently sloped
meeting the farthest edge of the universe
with an elegant gradience

I stood on the hill
silently
and let myself become a
single
blade of grass
swaying with the earth's
muffled heartbeat
and the wind's
tender breath
genevieve moncada
Written by
genevieve moncada
637
   Sa Sa Ra
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