Read Poem: HILLTOP, by Mitchel C. Resnick

I want to run
to leave my ID.
my new identity
is only for me.

Morrison went to Paris
a poet was his gain.
maybe he was right,
but did he still have pain?

To be in the woods
no electrical or running water.
Living by the land
no doorman or porter.

who are you?
a deer looks at me.
come listen to my music,
and you will see.

my art too
is free to your eye,
for you understand
why I used to cry.

everything old left behind
no one here to put me thru the grind.
the stars look so bright
on my new hilltop at night.

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