For a split-second these steps are at a loss, half thorns half holding back just enough in case you come too close and your shadow no longer means you still face the sun the way this stairway will dissolve as rainwater, would close your eyes if there was time --where you wade is already wood smoothed by the same descent streams are famous for can tell from a single stone on the bottom for years following under footmarks then flowers that stay open alongside the others till suddenly you are ankle-deep breathing out again, there.