Poem — Leonard Lambert

Hinterland

 

What lands lie east of here?
North and south are known, and west,
but to the east, to my left,
the country folds in upon itself and falls away,
rising in the near distance to a long tableland.
To the highway which hurries by,
it’s just somewhere on the way
to somewhere else. Myself
I’m not so sure. Light falls oddly
on this land to the east of here.
One day I will go there.

 

Leonard Lambert

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