The Hills

The black lava hills arise near flowing water,
Roamed, loved by red people on horses now corralled
Then ever moving from place to place behind game,
Marching to the far mountains, in up-rising ranks.

Roamed, loved by red people on horses now corralled,
Called wasteland on first sight by the pale people,
Marching to the far mountains in up-rising ranks,
The black lava has gone now, covered up for ease.

Called wasteland on first sight by the pale people,
They made a trade ferry here, then a bridge.
The black lava has gone now, covered up for ease,
For paths and roads, houses and schools and banks.

They made a trade river ferry here, then a bridge,
And made a fair city in the arid desert
With paths and roads, houses and schools and banks.
Yet still the hills rise rank upon rank to mountains.

Long gone is moving from place to place behind game.
The black lava hills arise near flowing water
And made a fair city in the arid desert,
Yet still they rise rank upon rank to the mountains.

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5 Comments

  1. Powerful reminder ~ thank you

    Reply
  2. awesome capture of the hills and neighborly nature..

    Thanks for sharing.
    A++
    :)

    Reply
  3. force of nature, beauty and dormant threat…
    enjoy the rally!

    http://lynnaima.wordpress.com/

    Reply
  4. Wonderful sense of place and history.

    Reply
  5. wonderful reminescence.. thanks for sharing liz.. my potluck.. http://fiveloaf.wordpress.com/2011/01/21/remain/

    Reply

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