By Alena Thalput
Home in the hills
Where farms stretch out into the horizons Cowbells are always ringing,
Sending waves of calm
Down the train tracks That wrap along the countryside.
Mountains stretch over the clouds
Small towns rise in the valleys
Smelling like sweet chocolate and potatoes, The scent wafts through the lost ski resorts Sitting on the long grass
Tumbling through pristine lakes.
Reflections of arching glaciers ripple
Settling along the sides of a singular rowboat.