Nine Smooth Hills


Jane Candia Coleman

Driving I come upon them -
three rows of three hills
that ripple across the valley
like the bodies of women
asleep a thousand years.

Grass has covered them
and their toes have blended
with the earth. In their huge
loins, cows give birth,
arching their backs against stone.

I think they will never awaken,
these mounded Amazons enamoured
of ease, these mothers enchanted
with nurturing, these ladies
dreaming wind and the sweep
of seasons while digging themselves
always more deeply onto the ground.

From No Roof But Sky by Jane Candia Coleman, High Plains Press.
© 1990 Jane Candia Coleman

Books by Jane Candia Coleman

No Roof but Sky: Poetry of the American West, High Plains Press.
The Red Drum: Poetry of the American West, High Plains Press.
Stories from Mesa Country, Swallow Press.
Discovering Eve: Short Stories, Swallow Press.
Moving On, Leisure Books.
Doc Holliday's Gone : A Western Duo, Five Star.
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