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The poem “Hills of my Youth” is an allegory of aging. The sights of youth are still seen, but the traveler has moved beyond.


Hills of My Youth
Poem for Day 285 – 20151013

There was a time I was amongst
the lovely hills of my youth.
They lay spread out in my vision,
rolling to the horizon's edge.
Beauty incarnate in majesty,
satyr's realm amongst the barrows.
Mounts of delight, knolls of bliss,
the path ran through them all.

The wheel turned, I moved on,
the journeyer betrayed by age.
Satyrs may romp but not I
on the road to points distant lay.
Now I see them from afar,
separated by the deep chasm.
The gap not of my doing,
but there nonetheless by time's hand.

Respect asked, dues given hence.
My path lays not in the altitudes,
nor in the clefts near in my youth,
these have passed out of reach.
Long trail back to the mountains,
a journey I may never take.
The hillocks are in my past,
the hills of my youth removed by time.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.

April 2020

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