Treasure in Hills Too High

There’s treasure in the hills that hold us back
Too high to climb, so here we stay
Where crops burn in arid fields
We search for buried gold while our stores run dry
Overhead something gleams in the cliffside
Too high to scale and get a closer look
Unreachable, though none have ever tried
So we sift through the sand below
Hoping to find a piece of gold fallen from above
That we can hide away in preparation for the day
When the hills crumble of their own accord
And give us a path into the world
Even now the wind blows far overhead
Too high above us to feel it dancing in our hair
Turning rock to dust, sending more gold down upon us
And the hill grinds away into nothing
The way is opening; the light makes longer shadows

Photo by Vlad Chețan from Pexels

A few weeks ago I submitted a short story I wrote to a bunch of literary magazines. Most of the magazines have a response period of multiple months, so I tried to push it out of my head because I knew I had so long to wait. Well, I’ve started to hear back from those with the shortest turnaround. The story’s gotten two NO’s so far, but I’m still optimistic! Still holding out for The New Yorker — I can dream, can’t I?

10 thoughts on “Treasure in Hills Too High

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  1. Really beautiful words. Don’t let the rejection stop you. I think we just have to keep writing, you never know what might come our way. Fly on a magic carpet and swim on a seahorse, catch a ride with an angel and eat chocolate stars until your tired. Waiting will become much easier. Love Joni (Never give up writing is a gift)

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