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Writer's pictureKirsten Weiss

Windy Hill


poetry

I walk the Windy Hill

Jeweled dragons tumble over amber grass

And roost in dying oaks

Their wings confetti flashes.

The round top’s mounded curves

Disguise fast sleeping trolls

Their lichen-covered boulder heads

In dreams of nighttime revels.

And down I walk on winding paths

In cool moss-covered glades.

A fairy rustles fragile ferns

Its toadstool house unseen.

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