Near Katoomba Falls

Today, your mind closed in,
only the steps before you sinking down
to the rainforest. Mist floods the valley,
curlicues rise to uncoil in freer air.
The leaves you tread are copper, oxblood,
wear a leathery sheen after the rain.
Clumps of moss are forests in miniature
grounded, like this one, on rock: from ledges,
eucalypts struggle towards grey light;
coach trees stretched thinly upwards
sway with each lift of wind. Deadlocked
in space, roots arch and coil through paths.
An abseiler enters that eye in the cliff
to crouch inside the emptiness of stone.