1. there is a strange hill

at the cliff’s edge​
verdant and delicious​
smoothly curved​
from the distance​
it is not a hill, really​
not stone flesh​
with hairs pricked up​
green to the follicle​
branches​
push up under the surface​
creating a hollow​
hill of trees​
we hide us in it​

I am with you​

2. creating a hollow

pushing up under the surface​
all our hairs pricked up​
not-stone flesh​
laced together​
there is a strange hill​
smoothly curved​
verdant and delicious​
it is not a hill, really​
we hide us in it ​
I am with you​
at the cliff’s edge​
under the​
in the​
branches​
clutched and clutching​
in the ​

hill of trees

3. at the cliff’s edge

under the ​
branches​
I am with you​
creating a hollow​
pushed up under the surface​
of the cliff’s​
stone flesh​
there is a strange hill​
it is not a hill, really​
we hide us in it

 

Image credit:Tomas Sobek

Born and raised in Bloomington, IN, Chloe is a second-year at UCSB and misses the midwest dearly. Chloe has been writing for about three years, and prefers narrative poetry and (very) short fiction. There is no-one more important to Chloe than Chloe’s older brother; they have done most of their existence together. Chloe hopes to one day publish a little collection of both of their poems, writings, and illustrations.