Harry Behn


         The Little Hill

       Windy shadows race
       Over a hilly place
       I know, a sunny place,
           A secret place.

       It’s not so far away,
       I go there every day,
       Every bright windy day,
           I go there to play.

       Over the garden wall
       I climb and jump and fall
       Into weeds by the wall,
           And then I crawl

       As quiet as can be
       Under a hollow tree
       Where once a bumble bee
           Bumbled at me.

       Then still, so very still
       Through shade I go until
       I see my little hill
           Sunny and still.

       Up through the pleasant sun
       Up to the top I run
       Higher than everyone
           Under the sun,

       High up until I see
       Over the tallest tree,
       Over town to the sea,
           The blue sea…

       Here no one ever goes
       Because here nothing grows,
       Only weeds and wild rose,
           And no one knows

       Hidden by the woods and vine
       Far up in the sun shine
       This little hill is mine,
           This hill is mine.