Signal Hill
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I climb as if it's a pilgrimage One foot in front of the other My feet not as dirty as they used to be Over the rocks The only sound my breathing And noise from the town below Louder than I'm used to Dryer than I'm used to Browner than I'm used to My feet carry me I can't explain it But I feel the sameness This ironically named Signal Peak Different from my other signal hill But so very similar I climb. I was not ready for the memories Maybe the ghosts have moved on The veil of time has been crossed But the memories creep in my thoughts Bright and yet dark Happy and yet sad And I wasn't ready. But they flooded my thoughts as we talked about food And shared our stories I remembered the resos Where we sat in community and prayed And drank the tea with cheese The gift of our presense more important Than the words we said I rememebered the hot avena drink That mothers would pour between cups repeatedly To cool it for their expectantly waiting children And the plates of much coveted lentils and rice Handed to me generously at the school I sit, like I used to Overlooking my world My home The last hill was a life line And sometimes a refuge And this one may be the same For the short time I call it my home And then I will move on I will find a new hill I will find a new peak I will find a new home.