Ekphrastical-Alley! Reflections | Page 15

ON THE HILL She sits on that hill Alone and magnificent A river runs by They left her at night Hurriedly like they arrived The wind is icy The first light of day Mirrored her in the water They were miles away Her walls have secrets Hear them whispered in low tones Not all are welcome Look at her image Not a sign of what she is That is why they left