Poetry / My own meadow.
My place of clear water,
the first hill in the world
where springs washed into
the shiny grass
and darkened cobbles
lay in the bed of the lane.
Lush valleys, soft gradients
of tranquility, my own meadow.
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Short works for this. Technique is good, but I was wondering why the term ‘first hill in the world’ was used? Have I missed something?
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