Footholds

Where I dug the logs into the rise

to make the steps along the valley

I forget how many years ago

their wood has dissolved completely now

disappearing into the curled slope

gone without my seeing it happen

while the green clouds of trees have grown

above their mingled shadows

yet I set my feet down in the same

places I did when the steps were there

without even thinking about them

Father and Mother friend upon friend

what I remember of them now

footholds on the slope

in the silent valley this morning

Wednesday with few clouds and an east wind