He marched all day and all night up to the top of the hill
Felt the peak of the summit, the air on his face, the sky bleeding into him as one
There was no 10,000 men
nor indeed anyone
by his side
Just the air and molecules of a thousand universes and his ancestry seeping their way
into his
soul
mind
body
Awake yet asleep
on top of the hill looking down
down at a world so far away and distant
and up at a sky so far away and distant
And the Duke, wondering why, why he feels this rush of knowing, of awareness
as if knowing the meaning of the entire universe and everything
so high up on that hill
And yet now, even with sun glancing over the horizon
as if winking at the idea of a sunset
and despite that slight chill seeping quietly into the wind with
abject discretion
He sits
high above
high.