Hills

 

we ran hard for the hills

thinking they were mountains 

trenches of the unknown lurking

the crisp air vivifying all 

burning our fears

we had no choice

 

standing tall with dire illusive dreams

on overlaid cotton candy clouds 

 

the musty sight of dreadful ghosts

ignited our footsteps like fleeting fireflies

 

we shouted and the wistful winds replied

to the echoes of our heave-hoing  hearts

 

we ran hard for the hills

thinking they were mountains

stupendously slipping on pebbles.

 

 

 

-A.C.D. 

 

Copyright 2018, Published Underwood Press