Simon Perchik, [The hillside never stands by]

Rosemary Bailey, WC 17



This hillside never stands by
though it still faces the shore
for the sea it once was

̶ takes in you dead brought here
as bottom stones and the dew
waiting to become rain again

kept warm by its slow fall
from that hole in the sun
shaping the Earth, widening it

to turn you on your side
as if you belong here
have given up everything.

Simon Perchik

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