and through veinstreets of leaves,
that will fall in burnt umber flood,

while roots entwine below as a labyrinth.

Miners in the green canopy.

Miners in the black below.

Pits and tunnels
mined by pitmen
underneath villages.

Each on a hillside,
one overlooks death
one overlooks life.

Each barkskin warmed
by the same sun,
frozen by the same gust.