the hill poem

Up here, we hiked a one and a half miler,

walking slowly uphill, avoiding the poo of the horse piler.

Some tidbits here and there, what a history,

big houses, old cars, cement pools, what mystery.

reached the top! The end of our stroll, looking far at the cities

in wonder, why don’t I do this more often, I ponder in self pity.

Every day sitting through classes, retaining fact blocks,

staring at the tick-tock of the wall clock

Forget the books!

and the notes!

I’m free in the fields, forget even this poem I wrote.