Along the side of the Malvern Hills

 

So much above

So many shapes and textures

So many shades of green

I cannot tell

How steep the slope

How high the bank

How far above the -manyness-

So much above

me

While here I stand

Looking at the underneath

*

I could, of course, go up

Mount this hill

And stride the ridge

With the birdsong and the freer air

Look down on all the little people

With their little lives

And me above

them

Looking at the underneath

*

But here I stand

Admiring the reverse of each new leaf

Unturned

Where bugs crawl

Small creatures scutter

And only the occasional foxglove

Reaches down for a kiss

The green is all above

And I am here

me

Looking at the underneath