Answer:
I have a small hill with seven holes.
I went into the woods and got it. I sat down to seek it. I brought it home with me because I couldn’t find it. What is it?
I tremble at each breath of air and yet can heaviest burdens bear.
I am constantly overlooked by everyone but everyone has me. What am I?
They are many and one, they wave and they drum, used to cover a stare, they go with you everywhere.
No matter how little or how much you use me, you change me every month.