Sunday, August 03, 2008


He likes to ride his bike up hills.

He’s lived sixty-six years

and seen a thousand hills,

thinking each one was chosen

for him, a useful hill

that has “Hamilton” at the summit.

He’s seen hills

that helped his life leap up,

hills that held him

on their shoulders,

hills that left him

as liberated as the air.

He knows how to be happy 

with hills.

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