We stand at the edge and deep down under us glisten the roofs of the leper colony.
The climb down we could manage but we’d never make it back up the slopes before nightfall.
So we turn back through the forest, walk among trees with long blue needles.
It’s silent here, like the silence when the hawk nears.
These are woods that forgive everything but forget nothing.
Damien, for love, chose life and obscurity. He received death and fame.
But we see these events from the wrong side: a heap of stones instead of the sphinx’s face.