Somewhere in the hillocks

Somewhere in the hillocks
there’s a place
where you go through a rocky gateway
where blunted brown rocks lie
in the red brown sand

and here and there are trees
sticking out like half bare fingers
against the sky
as if leaves are struggling to grow
and terrible winds
at times rip it off.

The grass of the veldt is yellow
as if it’s already winter,
but maybe not a lot of rain
falls here

and in the distance
I see clouds white and grey
hanging over the blue mountain top

while the sun at places
comes through it
and would have liked
to be with the painter Jacobs
at that place.

[Reference: Painting by D Jacobs that belongs to me.]

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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