Jack Growden - Hills

Wherever I come to travel
And however long I let my journey unravel
It remains as true and sure
As stone turns to gravel
That sturdy to the core,
These hills will remain evermore.
For nothing stands more ingrained -
No tattooed arm or shirt deep stained
By torrid black ink spills -
Than the ranges upon which it has rained
Because through the mundane and the thrills,
Standing firm are the dormant hills
Whose pride has never faltered,
As their place and presence remains unaltered.

Jack Growden

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hills-9/