The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Nighttime by Marina Hope Wilson

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The Drive

When I was young,
the hills were green like this

and you were strong and
unyielding as the hills—

green and full of
stories. Wet and fresh

as anyone equipped to live
in a car or under the sky.

You fought a man
much bigger than you

because he had drowned a kitten
in the river, and you said

anyone who would do that
had to be weak.

You, pure sinew, all
impulse and overflowing

with rain and green, like that.
Yes, like those hills just there.

I can see them now.