The soft clay slowed our step

            Along the ridge, the treetops swayed

            And then the mist above the distant valley

            Closed

            As we clambered in the sudden dark

            I scraped my skin

            The rains were brief and once the storm

            Blew past I showed the reddening

            To demonstrate how fine a line

            Created two worlds out of one

            And when it swelled I told her

            It was strange how little pain it took

            To turn a crocus or a daffodil 

            To weed

            The forest silence grew, of unseen

            Scuffling and attack, hunger and 

            Pursuit and song, as if the 

            Nothing new were nothing new

            We reached the clearing

            I could see that she had tired of

            All my talk about interiors

            As she admired the view –

            An earthen wall, the massive roots

            Exposed, the fallen trunks 

            Upon the slope and overhead the light –

            Refusing to believe that what we saw

            Had anything to do with love