The Rolling Hills The sun eased down over low rolling hills We sat in our lounge chairs The stress of the day melting, Slowly easing away with the sun We talked of small matters Not wanting this time to end Knowing sleep, too quickly would bring The next day’s weight of work And the sun struggling back up in the sky I know she shares my thoughts Then the gunshot A specific crack in the distance Pushing through dense air Its echo fading over the rolling hills A single shot – not enough for target practice hunting season long since over accidental or on purpose So we wondered if… A simple embarrassment Or injury Or a life gone And the sun As though not wanting to know slipped behind the rolling hills -- William Martin | |
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William Martin's PoemsHere I'll share just some of my poems. Keep a lookout for a book of my poems...available soon on Amazon! Archives
July 2024
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