The Hill
Dec 2, 2020
a poem with no way through.
I see the hill in you
I can’t get through around or over.
There is no road or trail to use.
It stands like a monolith,
a moraine of glacial rock
gathered in anger and grief
year by year,
stone by stone.
My love could be a bulldozer
and knock it down.
Or an earthquake
to shake it to its core
until it falls,
but it is neither.
My love hits a wall.
It has nowhere to go.
It ricochets backward
into nothing.
