Author’s note: This poem is about the legend in Brown County about “The Watcher” on Browning Hill. My father told me it all started in the ‘60s about keeping hippies from living there. They say The Watcher still watches that hill to this very day.
The Watcher
I stand alone this moonlit night
On top of Browning Hill.
While the murky backwaters
Flow freely below my withered bare feet
While my wife and children are sound asleep.
I call upon you to rise, oh Watcher!
From the depth of the bogs
Rid us from the hippies stepping foot on
Our lands from this moment forth.
In return I welcome myself to you, my
Old friend, with open arms.
Do with me as you see fit
But I beg of you, Watcher, never let your
Guard down, protect the generations
To come which are not like whom live
Before you this very night.
— Jamie Robinson, Brown County
