My Hill Poem by Juan Olivarez

This is my hill, I come here every day,
I sit on this rock and gaze.
Over the desert and see how it lays,
Here is where I spend my days.

Nothing but mountains, and sand all around,
Nothing but scrub brush and stones.
The silence is deafening, there isn't a sound,
Here on this hill I sit all alone.

Communing with God, in heaven on high,
Solitude is the perfect word.
To talk to the man in this desert sky,
Here I'm alone with my lord.

11/03/10 Alton Texas