Sunday 2 June 2013

Over the hill

I read this poem last night and it took up residence in my mind. I almost know it by heart without trying much, its rhythms natural, the words simple and familiar.

As you come over the hill

You'll see cows grazing in a field
And perhaps a chicken or a turtle
Crossing the road in their sweet time,
And a small lake where a boy once
Threw a girl in who couldn't swim,

And many large maples and oak trees
Offering ample shade to lie in,
Their branches to hang yourself from,
Should you so desire,
Some lazy afternoon or evening

When something tells the birds to hush,

And the one streetlight  in the village
To keep a few moths company
And the large old house put up for sale
With some of its windows broken.

                                  Charles Simic

Perhaps it spoke to me because I'm travelling over the hill myself, brooding on my life. A single sentence punctuated by commas. Youth, maturity and old age, one stanza each.

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