The Hills

The hills south of town 

So ragged and forlorn 

The children of mighty mountains 

Underappreciated and underachieving 

In such great granite shadow 

But I love them 

For their smallness 

The microcosm 

But to stand upon it 

No less glorious than Everest 

It is to hold the moon in your palm 

Though it may only be a creek stone