RAINDROP/SUNDROP (GRASSWORLD/RAINWORLD) by Robert Garcia - HTML preview

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Green Hills, Black Eyes

Green hills

Have a person

Standing on them

With ugly black eyes

The eyes

Look towards

The hills

And see

Where we stand

Waiting

For us to jump

To jump and go down

Waiting

For us

To crawl

And meet them

At the foot

Of the hills

The hills themselves

Are green and large

We can’t see past them,

But we know

That they were always

Waiting for us

Far, far way

In both

The distance

And a fading past