MUSED Literary Magazine.
Poetry

The Hills of Tuscany

Marina Montenegro

With patterns like the tigress,
pine trees cluster, painting stripes
with dark green streaks, casting their shadows
down the hillside.
her elegant body -
painted the light green of
the orchards planted in rows.
You’ll never hear the tigress growl.
Her air is too sweet;
filled with whistled songs
of happy doves.
There is no need for mighty roars.
Not in these Tuscan hills.