'its position, more than its paths (which have themselves become memory)'

to read it by signs: melt water,
boulder clay, floor gradient.

1950s farming remnants, eroding
their way toward some simulacrum

of granite: this faux-reversal, as light
is slow to make it

across the valley: five stone steps, invisibly
waiting at the burnt-down doorway.

as a river wanders beside it, along
no bridges but the pre-

history of wood: Prumnopitys taxifolia.
Podocarpus ferrugineus. Dacrydium 

cupressinum. as light unclasps
the flowers, their clenched

hands, opens the words
for them, as transcriptions. as

the valley becomes, as budded
in that audible stopping

of centuries here, in their radiant fists, each
as a moment’s smallness, opened: