An Ochil Hills sunset, 2007. Photo by Andrew Smith. Licensed under Creative Commons, courtesy geograph.org.
The Dark Hills[]
Dark hills at evening in the west,
Where sunset hovers like a sound
Of golden horns that sang to rest
Old bones of warriors under ground,
Far now from all the bannered ways
Where flash the legions of the sun,
You fade — as if the last of days
Were fading, and all wars were done.
This poem is in the public domain