On Sunny Hills Where you hear the coyotes shrill at half past eleven On long summer nights As the crickets struck chords And the frogs belched from the creek Accompanied by a symphony we traveled to sleep And dreamed of dripping sun rays On sunny summer afternoons Chewing on mint leaves and gathering blackberries Fed by the creek that trickled through the yard Watching the buzz and ignition in the bug zapper at dusk And meeting the twins on Gemini Riding out bikes to nowhere And exploring every trail to its end Stopping at Hought’s for ice cream in the days before poverty Sunny Hills, Highland, Gekler St, Jensen’s market Ferra Pan and the heated race for first And the crack of a shotgun, and the sear of meat in butter And sleeping on the roof under the stars And baseball and swimming during the day Also Final Fantasy, from dark till dawn Going up Fox Hill and Crystal’s cool waters in summer Sunny Hills, feeling wondrous and lit up inside With a sense of endless youth And reading Steinbeck and the naked drunk man And “My Side of The Mountian” by George and not knowing of Thoreau Making the story my own And train whistles echoing late at night reflecting off the hills And it’s what never was, and it never was, it never was Can you see the ghosts On Sunny Hills where the ghosts remain As the coyotes shrill And trains whistle to the hills And accompanied by crickets we traveled to sleep And dreamt of dripping sun rays
Posted on: Sat, 13 Jul 2013 22:25:48 +0000
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