A.R. Ammons

the hills are alive with indifference,
a trembling, high voltage

who-gives-a-hoot: I am so glad I
feel it so strong: they are not

after me, the hills, nor is anyone:
and I am not responsible to raise

them high or treed or consoled:
mountains could bother them: but I

Don't care: mountains don't bother
them, though, because mountains,

are indifferent, only bigger:
no imperatives are delivered from

the peaks-except, of course it's
hard to get up them and not much

easier to get down: But I don't
have to follow lofty urgings

ignoring which could bring pain
except, perhaps-"don't stand below

high boulders on a deforested slope
in pouring rain": I mean, one does

have to mind the constitutions and
configurations of things: pay no

mind and you may have none to pay:
hills, if not totally indifferent

(and of course, they are) communicate
by ubrupt concretions, not words:

I would rather be communicated with
with words, especially since hills

don't have any, and their concretions
are roughish