Thing Two
The hills here crumble
year after year
rain after drought
until they roll smooth
where they ran jagged
and the roads man builds
are covered in fine silt layers
crossed with makeshift riverbeds
nothing really shifts in the end, though
everything just builds upon
and builds upon again
year after year
rain after drought
until they roll smooth
where they ran jagged
and the roads man builds
are covered in fine silt layers
crossed with makeshift riverbeds
nothing really shifts in the end, though
everything just builds upon
and builds upon again