The lichen stood like crooked hairs,
the light that through the crooked trees
is soft in that coarse fur is trapped
once in the clouds, then twice.

The trees are small and holding hard
the mountain side with crooked roots;
a tortuous road leads up the pitched
and crooked mountain side.

Our mountains have two shades of green:
the easier slopes are lighter, dark
takes the ascents toward the top
and crowns if other clouds do not.

We neared the line where shades exchanged
their green, where clouds immediately
dispense the water they impart;
the grass was crouching wet.

Fog-forests cling to the steep slopes,
there watered by the wandering clouds.
The waters are abundant where
the heavens touch the earth.


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