Among The Hills

I drive out here among the hills
As I am wont to do:
Some roaming impulse this fulfills
New scenery to view

No thoughts of lust or avarice
Or envy crowd my mind;
And where despair has lately camped
Has been left long behind

Among the hills near where I live
Are people I don’t know –
Who don’t know me, and do not care
All I may own or owe

The sun’s bright ray, it reaches down
Across my windshield spills:
And maybe I’ll find something, too
Out lost
The hills

Published by

Beleaguered Servant

Owen Servant is an online poet working in a style that's been described as "compulsive". In real life, he is an actuary, because being a poet wasn't unpopular enough.

Leave a Reply