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